Fireball
by uselessdonut
Summary: Izuku hasn't seen Bakugou in months. He hasn't spoken to him in two years, and it's been eight years since they had a meaningful conversation. Not that Izuku's counting, because adult Izuku has um, a spine and also self-respect. He wouldn't waste his entire life pining after someone who couldn't care less about him, right?
1. Chapter 1: Deku WTF

It's the first time Izuku's seen Bakugou in months. In typical Bakugou fashion, it happened in a shocking round of explosions.

Izuku was patrolling his sector of the city, minding his own blessed business, when a solid concrete wall in front of him explodes outwards in a bloom of flame and smoke. Rocketing out of the center of the fire was a familiar blond-haired form. Izuku staggered back, shocked enough that he'd frozen in place, iron-soled boots rooted to the pavement.

In contrast, Bakugou pushes himself further into the air with another explosion, vaulting flawlessly to land on the railing of someone's balcony. Show off. Something slimy and purple and vaguely human-shaped crawled out of the hole Ground Zero had rocketed from. With an audible growl, the other hero lept from the balcony, straight down onto it, arms outstretched.

The resulting explosion left soot five stories up the alleyway on both sides. Still frazzled, Izuku began to run forwards. What had Ground Zero been fighting? Was he okay? Was Izuku's own damn sector okay? His zone required a slightly more subtle touch than the constant explosions Ground Zero tended to provide.

"Ka-Ground Zero!" He shouted, voice coming out high and strained.

It's also the first time he's talked to Bakugou in two years.

After graduating UA, Kacchan had quickly rocketed to popularity. The last few years of school had sanded the cruel edge off of his personality, leaving him just palatable enough to be Japan's favorite bad boy. Bad young man , now, judging by the relatively scandalous "Japan's Hottest Heroes" calendar he'd posed for. Did Izuku own a copy? Of course not, Izuku had a sense of shame. He also had a picture of Bakugou's spread he'd taken covertly with his phone at a stationery shop. Izuku doesn't have quite enough shame, apparently.

Bakugou Katsuki was brash, loud, undeniably hot, unfailingly standoffish and unreachable, and therefore media's reluctant darling. If you didn't love him, you loved to hate him. And he looked good on a front cover. He looked good on anything, in Izuku's opinion, but that was just his long-dead childhood crush speaking. Izuku was older now, at twenty-five, and had spent plenty of time convincing himself out of it. Had he been successful in this? Yes. A definite yes, as long as Bakugou stayed far away from him and out of his life. This was something that had been relatively easy after graduation.

The smoke cleared slowly, dramatically. The subject of Izuku's long-dead childhood crush stepped out of it, cracking his knuckles and surveying the area, likely looking for casualties. Izuku swallowed.

"You're supposed to look for bystanders before you explode things Kach-Ground Zero," he called.

Bakugou's head rolled towards him, lazy and amused. "You count yourself as a bystander, nerd?"

"At least you've stopped shouting, 'Now Die,' whenever you do anything," Izuku said, ignoring his question. He'd learned it was better to sidestep Bakugou's jabs then meet them head on.

To his surprise, Bakugou scratched his head. "I did actually check, idiot. Fucking wasn't supposed to be anyone here."

Izuku wasn't sure what to say. He'd lost the ability to speak normally to Bakugou after their second year at UA, when Bakugou had inexplicably stopped being a massive dickhole to him. Instead of being rivals, they'd become nothing. The silence stretched.

"Could've hurt you," Bakugou grumbled. Izuku didn't know if he was insulting him or being remorseful. He was surprised by how much the awkwardness hurt. His old friend looked different, he realized. Older. Outside of magazines and TV, the difference was more obvious. His hair was shorter, face sharper, and his hero costume had been altered. Still ridiculous and over the top, but undeniably sleeker.

"What are you doing here?" Izuku blurted. Bakugou blinked. Awkwardness stole another few seconds before Bakugou's natural temper set in. He gestured behind him wildly, arm flexing in a way Izuku studiously ignored.

"Kicking ass?" He said, a little loudly. "Want me to let my shitty villains run all over your sector just so you don't have to see me?"

Izuku found himself laughing. "You can just give me a heads up like everyone else," he said, good nature returning. That's right. Bakugou was just another pro hero, working like everyone else did. He could handle this situation. "This area's my responsibility, I'm happy to come help. And keep the property damage down," he found himself adding.

Bakugou eyed him suspiciously. "Were you always such a smartass?"

"I know when it's appropriate and when it's not," Izuku said, folding his hands behind his head. For once, he was enjoying the interaction with his old friend. He hadn't talked to him so long… but more to the point, he hadn't talked to Bakugou since he'd grown some self-respect. The other man was a lot less intimidating now that Izuku wasn't afraid of his own shadow.

His self-assuredness lasted exactly as long as it took Bakugou to stalk into his personal space, spelling like smoke and nitroglycerin. Bakugou's red eyes were narrowed, a faint sneer on his face. "You're different, Midoriya."

"Midoriya?" Izuku yelped reflexively, cheeks red. Bakugou didn't use his name. Any of his names. Even his hero name, he'd always said with disdain. Bakugou's frown lifted.

"But not too different."

Not too different? Izuku didn't know what on earth that meant. He did know that Bakugou's closeness and the smell of smoke was doing things to his knees. Up close, he could see how the sun hitting Bakugou's eyes made them warm to a shade of amber, and how he actually had a faint, faint dusting of freckles across his nose. Izuku swallowed his damn inconvenient libido and stared over his old friend's muscular shoulder.

Not moving away, Bakugo pulled out his tablet and began logging his take down, a process Izuku was all too familiar with. Izuku tried to wrap his head around the strange encounter. Apparently, it had just been a matter of time before Ground Zero turned up in his sector, and if it just happened to be when Izuku was nearby, well that wasn't too big of a coincidence. After all, if Bakugou hadn't been logging the times he'd crossed sectors, it might not even be the first time, and…

"You still mutter like a freak," Bakugou said, grinning like he'd won a prize. For Bakugou, that didn't mean a nice grin. Shaken out of his thoughts, Izuku stared up blankly for a moment. All he knew in that moment was that if Bakugou walked out of his life now, he didn't want to wait another two years to talk to him again. Better not to let him walk away. Good thing Izuku had spent the last eight years growing a spine.

If Bakugou had always been reckless, Izuku had always been impulsive to match. "Let's go out sometime," he said, staring into those red eyes.

Bakugou stopped his tablet straight onto the pavement.

"To catch up," Izuku added, bending to pick up the tablet. Its screen had cracked in place. He looked up to apologize, and realized Bakugou was still standing there, hand outstretched.

"What the fuck," he shouted, snatching the tablet back. Izuku flushed, suddenly embarrassed. He hadn't asked Bakugou to hang out before. Well, not since 6th grade, when the other boy had forcibly shoved his face into a mud puddle for asking. Annoyed by the memory, Izuku crossed his arms.

"Take it or leave it, Lord Explodo Murder," he said quickly, before he chickened out. He would not be intimidated. He would not. Not even by burning eyes and sinfully defined biceps.

"Eh?" Bakugou was nearly shouting. "You!" Then he slapped a hand over his mouth. Izuku watched in amazement as the man reigned in his temper, right before his eyes. After a moment, the hand dropped. Bakugou pocketed the tablet, shoving his hands in the pockets of his baggy shorts. "Sure," he said, finally.

Izuku nearly dropped dead. Sure. Sure? Bakugou said 'Sure?' Since when?

"I'll see you later then," he blurted, and bolted, leaving a puzzled Bakugou in the distance.

Thanks to Full Cowling, he made it to the other side of his sector in a matter of minutes. When was the last time he'd run that fast?

Bakugou Katsuki. His childhood best friend, middle school tormentor, high school rival. Adult nothing . Bakugou Katsuki had said, 'Sure.'

* * *

Midoriya bolted like a frightened gazelle. Katsuki was left staring after him dumbly. What had just happened?

Then the press descended. Experienced in this, Katsuki gave them routine answers, only floundering when they asked where Deku had gone. Fuck if Katsuki knew. In his head, a subconcious chant was starting to repeat, going something like, 'what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck-"

Katsuki made it all the way back to his flat before blue-screening. He slammed and locked the door behind him. "Want to go out with me?" He half-shrieked, the sound echoing around his empty apartment. His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Deku, what the fuck."

He stormed over to the kitchen, and grabbed a kiwi from a fruit bowl his mother had left. He needed a snack. A small, green-haired snack that had not asked him out. "What the actual fuck, Deku," he muttered, staring at the kiwi. The kiwi was placed back into the bowl. Gently.

The couch was Katsuki's next victim, as he threw himself onto it. "Oh yes," he snapped, glaring at the ceiling. "Don't talk to me for years, don't even look at me for longer. Then ask me the fuck out, why don't you?"

The empty flat did not reply, but the ficus in the corner had the grace to look intimidated. Katsuki sighed, letting his anger drain away. Maybe anger was the wrong word. His anger management counselor had always been on him about naming and acknowledging his emotions. He wasn't angry. He was frustrated. He was confused. He was also guilty, a life-long guilt leftover from endless cruelty to someone so important to him.

He'd never forget that day, even if Deku apparently had. He hugged a pillow, remembering it. Even now, it made him blush.

They'd been about to start their third year, and Electroboy had thrown a party to start the year off right. Katsuki had just discovered Fireball, and was determined to make it his best friend. Drinking a fifth of Fireball had not been a good idea, but he'd done it anyway. Gods above knew why he'd thought kissing Deku was a good idea, but he'd goddamn tried it anyway.

Katsuki stared at the ceiling, feeling tired. He'd gone over this a million times in his head already. Leaving out the travesty of kissing his unrequited love with Fireball-breath, the whole kissing-after-years-of-assholery had taken the cake.

God bless Deku, who'd shoved him away with a shout. It had felt like Deku had just shoved a hole straight through his goddamn heart. Then he'd realized Deku hadn't been standing quietly in the corner because he was sober. No, it was because he was smashed, and Deku had unleashed years and years of pent of frustration and hurt.

Katsuki's counselor, mandatory back then, had looked like she'd wanted to smack him when he told her. Apparently you're not supposed to go trying to kiss people you've been a shithole to. You're supposed to leave them in peace to heal at their own peace, or do whatever the fuck they ask of you. He'd never forget what Deku said. Leave me alone and don't bother me ever again. So Bakugou would do just that.

They were clear enough instructions. Less clear afterwards, when Deku kept exchanging small pleasantries. The faint hello, the concern after a hard fight… Katsuki had acknowledged them all, with as little unpleasantness as he could manage. But they'd remained distant. It killed him to realize that maybe without all the toxic anger, they'd had nothing left.

Nothing until now. Katsuki wasn't going to fuck this up like last time, damn it. He'd had many long years to reflect on his behavior. After graduating, he'd launched straight into the pro hero world, hands blazing, refusing to watch what Deku did. Well, trying to. It was impossible to overlook Deku, the idiot's face was plastered over everything.

Fucking Deku. The sweetheart of Japan, saving everyone with a smile, making hero work look goddamn effortless. Everyone liked him. Everyone loved him. He was impossible to ignore, and Katsuki had felt strangely proud watching Deku grow into his role. But as time passed, he seemed more and more out of reach. They talked sometimes, at class reunions, interviews, post-disaster debriefs. Never more than was necessary, than was polite.

Katsuki had gotten over his crush ages ago, but he'd never really gotten over losing his childhood best friend. That ache refused to leave his chest. If this was Deku finally giving him a second chance, then Katsuki wouldn't fuck it up.

He was Ground Zero. He was one of Japan's top heroes. He could barely step outside without being swarmed by fans. He could level a city block with one palm. One tiny, green-haired soft little man wasn't going to take him down. Right?


	2. Chapter 2: Thirsty Boys Need to Hydrate

A whole month of failure! That's what it was. Izuku was perched on top of an apartment building, enjoying the night shift, watching for trouble. It was a quiet night, though, so he was actually watching his social media feed. Just for a moment.

He'd spent a week hoping Bakugou would text him first (and being busy with work). He'd then spent a week trying to get the nerve to text Bakugou. Apparently figuring out how to say, "You wanna hang?" is infinitely harder when it's a blond bombshell on the other end. He was so caught up in his head it took him until week three to realize he _didn't have Bakugou's number_. He wasn't even friends with him on social media. How had that happened?

So what? Ask Kirishima for his number? Add him on Instabook? All of his options seemed humiliating.

_Sure_, Bakugou had said. Just thinking about it gave Izuku shivers. What had he been thinking? Who asked pro heros to just, hang out? Who asked old estranged friends to hang out?

"Deku?" That was Uraraka, sweet and concerned. They were drinking matching iced mochas, and Deku was spacing out. A whole month. If Bakugou didn't hate him anymore, he probably did again.

"Deku." She poked him in the cheek, making Izuku squeak. In the background, Ground Zero was shown beating some fishy monster into fiery submission. "Earth to Deku!"

He looked at his friend mournfully, noting her tired eyes, glossy brown hair. "You okay, Uraraka?"

"Are you okay?" she countered. "Is the Association riding you too hard again?"

"Just picked up some night shifts for Momo," he sighed. "She's got a new girl, and keeps wanting to spend nights."

"What? Who?"

"No idea," Deku groaned. "I've been asking, but she just keeps asking me to 'respect her privacy.' I can't keep pushing after that!"

"You're too nice," Uraraka sighed. "I'm gonna have to get to the bottom of this myself. We need someone to live vicariously through, you know? She's being selfish."

Izuku giggled despite himself. "Well then you'll love this: I ran into _Bakugou _last month."

Uraraka was silent for a moment, then exploded. "Last month? And you only tell me now? You hurt me, Deku."

"It was weird," Izuku whined. "So weird. One of his villains crossed over into my sector and he didn't even notify me. He tries so hard to avoid me," he sighed. Not that it made him sad. No, it was just, "It's unprofessional," he huffed out. Uraraka crossed her arms.

"He's still such a jerk, huh?"

"I just don't understand," Izuku sighed, slurping his mocha. It was sweet and cool, perfect for a summer morning.

"What's there to understand? He got what, 10% less jerky after school but still continues to be a jerk. So what?"

"Why would he agree to hang out if he wanted avoid me?" Izuku blurted out. Uraraka stared.

"What?"

"But I don't even have his contact info, so I can't even text him," Izuku groaned, sliding down in his seat. "It's so awkward, oh my god. I can't believe I'm like this. We're supposed to be adults, right?"

"You want to hang out with him?" Uraraka said, doubtful, but gentle. She knew how badly Izuku had missed his friend, at first. Izuku swallowed.

"Just to catch up, and stuff," he mumbled. "I hate losing friends."

Uraraka fished in her purse, finally yanking out her phone. After a few taps, she smacked it down on the table in front of Izuku. On the screen, a contact sat, named _#1 Asshole _with a bomb emoji.

"There. Text him. But if he hurts you you're _out, _Deku. I'm not putting up with his bullshit ever again," she snapped. "I don't want to be responsible for connecting you with someone bad for you."

Dutifully, Izuku put the contact in his phone, nearly vibrating with energy. Now he had no excuse not to text Bakugou. He stared at the contact in his phone. _Kacchan. _He'd written and erased the name _Bakugou Katsuki _five times already, but it felt too wrong.

"You think I should text him?" He murmured, then jumped as Uraraka slapped the table.

"Jesus Christ boy, after all this? The more you hesitate the harder it will be. Trust me, I know." Her smile was gentle. Izuku was reminded of her unrequited crush, one she'd failed to act on over and over.

"Fine. But you can help me with it, right?" He opened a message, staring nervously at the name at the top of the screen. Kacchan. Why was his heart in his throat?

"Of course," she grinned, a little evilly. "It's easy. Just say, 'Hey, when do you want to hang out?"

Obediently, Izuku typed it in. Then she continued, "And also I've been in love with you since I was four L.O.L. Spell it out, all caps."

Izuku sent her a Bakugou-worthy glare. "No?" She asked, innocently.

"I hate you," he mumbled. "I'm over that."

"And I'm over Iida, eh?" She cackled, then hit send on Izuku's phone. He watched in slo-mo horror as the little text bubble floated up. He waited in terrified suspense, but nothing happened. Uraraka soothed him, because he'd become an instant, pathetic nervous wreck.

That night, a reply still hadn't come. Nor the next day. Then Izuku realized that Bakugou wouldn't know who he was. He was on patrol when he texted next. He'd just bagged a gang of ATM thieves, and he was riding an adrenaline high. So he texted,

_It's Deku. _

He shoved his phone in his pocket, determined not to worry about it. He nearly jumped out of his skin when it vibrated a second later.

Kacchan: _Wtf midoriya _

Izuku stared at the screen like it had bitten him. Bakugou replied fast. He wasn't prepared. He wasn't prepared for the feeling stirring in his chest upon seeing _Kacchan _on his phone screen, either. He nearly dropped his phone when a second text came.

Kacchan: _You been in a fucking coma? Its been like a goddamn year jfc _

_I'm sorry! _Izuku texted him back, shaking with energy. No reply. He tried again. He didn't want to say how hard it had been to text but… he needed some excuse. So he sent,

Izuku: _I got caught up with work and then I realized I didn't even have your number or Instabook and I just got your number from Uraraka _

He sent it before he could stop himself.

Kacchan: _Ty for the novel nerd  
_Kacchan: _Took you a long ass time to find my #, u losing ur touch? _

Izuku stared at the exchange. Bakugou wasn't being friendly, but he was texting back. Somehow, it made him happy. Way too happy. It was the closest they'd had to a real conversation for so long. They had no reason to be talking. No media, no disaster, no villain. Bakugou was talking to him because he wanted to. Izuku found himself grinning unreasonably at his phone.

Kacchan: _Thought u changed ur mind _

Izuku's mouth dropped open. Bakugous was being… he was being.. It couldn't be. Emotionally vulnerable? Even a little? It felt momentous, like someone should throw a festival to celebrate. A new national holiday. Izuku knew he had to protect this moment, do something to show Bakugou that it was okay to be vulnerable with him.

Izuku: _Ofc not! I was just uh… I was just a little nervous :) _

Kacchan: _Why the fuck? _

Izuku was caught. Why indeed? Because he'd never stopped longing for Bakugou's attention? Because the man was more beautiful than fireworks? Than sunlight on a rainy day? Than a fireplace after being caught in the snow? Oh yeah, he could just text that. Bakugou would never speak to him again. Then his phone buzzed.

Kacchan: _But yeah, we can meet whenever u want.  
_Kacchan: _Heard theres another lame ass class drinks night this weekend. U there?  
_Kacchan: _Dont be nervous nerd. Heroes are brave, ya? _

Damn. Izuku giggled to himself. Did no one ever tell Ka-Bakugou about double texting? What was this, a quadruple text?

Izuku: _Now who sent a novel _

Then, before Bakugou could get offended,

Izuku: _I'll be there! Are you finally coming? _

A long pause. Izuku started to feel nervous, and tried to tell himself that Bakugou was probably just busy with something. Then,

Kacchan: _I'll come for u _

Izuku flung his phone away, shrieking. Then raced to pick it up. The offending text was still there. Izuku could feel his composure dissolving. Fuck, fuck fuck. He had to pull himself together. There was absolutely no way that Bakugou had meant it like that. He just meant he'd be there, because Izuku had dragged him there.

That alone was an intense thought. Bakugou doing something because Izuku asked? What was the world coming to?

Izuku didn't bother replying. There was absolutely nothing he could say to that, not without his head combusting. He could barely even bring himself to look at the text message.

The weekend came slowly, but way too quickly. Would Bakugou show his stupid, gorgeous face? Would he come for Izuku?

Izuku growled under his breath. He was losing his mind. His friends had all met at a bar, and were already getting rowdy just thirty minutes in. Thirty minutes in with no Bakugou. Still, it was a good turnout. Kirishima and Kaminari were daring each other to order expensive shots at the bar - apparently it was manly - and Momo and Jiriou had claimed a large booth for everyone. Ojiro was bringing them beers, and Uraraka and Iida were arm-wrestling at a cocktail table. Tsu had turned up late with Aoyama, giving Izuku a friendly wave before sliding into Momo's booth.

Izuku was about to give up when Bakugou strode into the bar, strutting in like he owned the place. He plopped onto the bar stool next to Izuku, ignoring everyone's stares.

"Sup nerd," he said, with that trademark dangerous grin. Izuku swallowed hard. Despite the cool evening, Bakugou was just wearing a loose, concerningly revealing, black tank top and slouchy jeans. It looked too good. Too good for Izuku, who, after hours of agonizing, had merely picked out a green sweatshirt and pale jeans. He looked like an off-duty librarian.

"Bakubrooooooo," Came a shout from behind them. Kirishima slammed into Bakugou's back, enveloping him in a hug. "You finally caaaaaameee ouuuuut!"

Izuku found himself laughing as he made eye contact with the abandoned Kaminari, who just looked fondly exasperated.

"Jesus H Christ, shitty hair," Bakugou snapped, turning around. Then to Izuku's surprise, snatched the red-haired man into a real hug. "It's been so long man, what the fuck."

Kirishima looked like he was about to cry manly tears of joy. Izuku felt that joy too - having Bakugou back in the group felt like filling a hole he hadn't even known existed.

"You're always so busy," Kirishima scolded, pulling back to punch his friend in the arm. "Never making time for you friends now, huh? Huh?! What happened to the dynamic trio?"

"You're drunk already," Bakugou snorted. "Fucking typical."

Behind them, Kaminari, raised a shot glass in cheers and explanation. Kirishima was inevitably drawn back to Kaminari. Those two were like magnets, never far from each other. After they'd been assigned the same sector, they'd been inseparable. Were they dating? Izuku had $50 dollars in the pool that said they were, but the two had managed to not confirm anything despite everyone's efforts.

Bakugou nudged him, pulling him back to the present. "Whatcha drinking, space cadet?"

"Uh-" he panicked. Talking was a lot harder than texting. He was blushing already. Izuku wanted to fall of the stool and be swallowed by the floor. Bakugou rested his hand on his chin, propped up on the bar.

"Uh?" His tone was lazy, relaxed. Izuku pulled himself together.

"IPA. Space Dust," he said, and Bakugou waved down the bartender.

"You used to drink mojitos, right?"

"You remember?" Izuku was so surprised he was almost offended. What right did Bakugou have to go off remembering things about him? The man in question just snickered.

"I always thought it was because it matched your shitty green hair."

"Asshole," Izuku muttered, accepting his beer from the bartender. "Let's go to the booth," he added. Bakugou would be less intense if they were surrounded by everyone else, right?

Wrong. Bakugou was not less intense surrounded by everyone else. Well, less intense to Izuku, maybe, but the man was just loud person and everyone had a lot of catching up to do. Once he failed to viciously snap at the first few people who tried talking to him, the questions kept flowing in. Everyone wanted to catch up with their distant classmate.

They learned that Bakugou had been put in the highest crime rate sector, an industrial district neighboring Tsu's harbor sector. He'd be suspended _five _times as a sidekick, and had gotten his pro license a full year after everyone else, a fact that he laughed off. Old Bakugou would have exploded the table for anyone mentioning it. New Bakugou thought it was 'fucking hilarious,' and that he'd been 'such a shit, Jesus Christ.'

Izuku was playing a private game. Everytime Bakugou made him want to blush, he was taking a drink. He'd finished the IPA in record time, and suddenly a mojito had appeared in front of him, courtesy of Lord Explodo Murder. Embarrassing. He took another drink. So far, Bakugou had slung his stupid, buff arm over Izuku's shoulders, called him a 'flower bed,' said he'd _missed all you losers_, stared into Izuku's eyes slightly too long, had tipped his shitty beer back to drink the rest in a way that drew Izuku's eyes to his neck, his slow swallow, he'd arm wrestled Uraraka, he'd… the list went on and on.

Three drinks Izuku is drunk Izuku. He was, well, both good and not good at holding his alcohol. He couldn't hide that he was tipsy, though he was careful to slouch against Ojiro on his right, away from Bakugou. He could hide that he was drunk. He stayed relatively quiet, happy to listen to everyone talking, to watch Bakugou enjoying himself.

The issue came when he had to pee. Break the seal, as Kirishima had shouted once Izuku asked his side of the booth to let him out.

He was very focused. Very focused, keeping his balance, sliding out of the booth without knocking over anyone's drinks. Right until he was out of the booth, and the table wasn't here to brace against, and he immediately staggered. He snatched at the air, falling, but Bakugou was faster. He grabbed Izuku mid fall, setting back him on his feet.

"Oy, little nerd, how drunk are you?"

"Not drunk," Izuku glared. Bakugou stared at him for a moment, red eyes disbelieving. Then he snorted so loudly Izuku jumped.

"Midoriya's druuunk," He announced loudly to the group. Izuku groaned, steadying himself against Bakugou's arm.

"Bathroom," Izuku insisted. He needed to get away from everyone. To calm down. He'd gotten halfway through his fourth drink, and it'd start hitting soon.

"You need help?" Uraraka asked, sweetly. "I'm sure _Kacchan _will help you," she added, much less sweetly. Evilly. The girl was a witch.

"Call me that again and you die," Bakugou snapped, instantly vicious. Then he frogmarched a confused Izuku away from the table.

The bathroom was a relief. He spent some quality time staring himself down in the mirror, trying to pretend he wasn't drunk. Normally, he wouldn't worry about it. His friends were kind. He took care of them, and they took care of him.

No, his problem was waiting outside the door, lounging against the wall with his arms folded. Izuku was confronted with the sight upon leaving the bathroom. For a moment, his breath was stolen. Bakugou belonged in dingy bar hallways just as well as he belonged in a burning summer day. How did he look so at ease everywhere? He'd only snapped once this evening, at Uraraka. That was relatively little by Bakugou's standards. Had he really changed? Maybe he just hated that nickname. He wished that Uraraka had said nothing. Izuku's stomach turned over.

"You really hate that name so much?" he asked, heart stuttering in his chest.

Bakugo frowned at him, and reached out to steady him. Izuku jerked back, hitting the wall with a thud. "Kacchan," he snapped. "You didn't need to shout at Uraraka."

Bakugou flinched away, staring at Izuku with wide eyes. He was still for a moment, lips parted.

"Roundface has no right to call me that," he said finally, voice a low growl. "Shitty nerd. You know I only ever let you get away with it. S'not my fault you quit saying it. Doesn't mean everyone fucking else gets to say it."

He crossed his arms, and stared Izuku down like he was a villain. Izuku didn't know what to say. He _had _stopped calling Bakugou 'Kacchan,' even in his own head. The name reminded him of their sunny, childhood days, before his friend had turned selfish and cruel. He thought Bakugou had hated the name. That's why he'd stopped - for Bakugou, in hopes that calling him by his real name would bring him back to Izuku. It had never worked.

"Kacchan," he said under his breath, musingly. The name was familiar on his lips.

"Yeah?" Bakugou said, pushing himself off the wall and towards Izuku, before stopping suddenly. Izuku wanted to clarify he hadn't been _calling _Bakugou, but suddenly he couldn't talk. Bakugou's expression froze him in place. He looked… hopeful.

"Thought you hated it," Izuku muttered, pouting. He was never drinking again. This was too embarrassing. Suddenly, strong hands were on his forearms, as Bakugou finally crossed the space. Nervously, he looked up. Bakugou was staring down at him, forbiddingly intense. He was going to tell Izuku off, he was sure. Not to use such a shitty childhood nickname. He was going to cry.

"I did," Bakugou rumbled. "I was also shit-for-brains loser. Don't want you to call me anything else, now."

Izuku blinked up at him, eyes watery. He cursed his waterworks nature. His lip was trembling. Pathetic, he told himself. "Kacchan," he mumbled. Bakugou's hands squeezed his arms reflexively. Then the man leaned down in, right in Izuku's face.

One hand lifted, jabbing a finger into his own chest. "That's right, little Deku." He tapped himself in the chest again, for emphasis. "Ka-chan. Don't fuck it up."

He was so, so close. Izuku stared up at him, looking at his eyes. Bakugou looked partly amused, but mostly serious. And then there was his mouth. Izuku had to look away. It felt like he was about to be kissed. An impossibility. Bakugou had always been aggressively withholding about his relationships. Izuku didn't even know if he'd ever had one. It was a topic constantly discussed by trash magazines.

Izuku looked down and away, relieving the pressure of those red eyes. "You called me Deku."

Bakugou dropped his arms, stepping away. "Sorry. Midoriya."

"No," Izuku said, quickly. "Everyone else does, you know."

"I said it like it was a bad thing," Bakugou huffed, looking away. "I lost the right."

It was, well. It was really, really endearing. Drunk Izuku does not do well holding back from endearing things. He launched himself at Bakugou, wrapping his arms around that trim waist. Bakugou squawked in surprise.

"I hate Midoriyaaa," Izuku whined. "Just call me Deku like always. Kachaaaaaaaan, come onnnn."

He buried his face in Bakugou's back, unable to not be an emotional mess but also completely unwilling to let go. Bakugou twisted around, then ruffled his hair. It felt nice. _Nice _. He hummed in happiness, feeling comfortable and safe. Should he feel that way? Nope. But he couldn't help it. Bakugou was warm and solid and here, and he couldn't bear to pull away.

"Fine, lil' Deku. Fucking nerd," Bakugou huffed. "Come on, we should go back. People gonna be making fucking rumors, you know."

"M'not not little," Izuku said sternly, tilting his head up. Bakugou had grown as a teen. Izuku had not. Even looking up, his head barely passed Bakugou's shoulder.

"Compared to me, you are a tiny little grasshopper," Bakugou snickered, then tried to turn and go. Not allowed.

"Noo," Izuku said, tightening his hold. "I missed you," he added mournfully. "Kacchannn, I don't wanna go back to the extras, let's stay here forever."

Stiffly, Bakugou looked down at him. Then he relaxed. "Dude you're fucking blasted. I'm gonna take you back."

Izuku opened his mouth, about to retort something about being an adult and making his own choices, but Bakugou was more sober, and much quicker. He tucked Izuku under his arm, and towed him out of the hallway, grumbling something about small, shitty nerds.

Bakugou presented him to his table of friends like he was a show dog.

"I brought Deku back." The name sent a shiver of happiness up his spine, until Bakugou continued. "Nerd's completely smashed. He always like this?"

Izuku frowned, as his friends laughed.

"Maybe you should head home, Deku-kun," Uraraka called out. "You feeling okay?"

"Fine," Izuku said, defiant until the last. Like a real hero. He is a real hero. "I am so fine."

"So fine," Bakugou muttered.

"Take him home, Bakubro," Kirishima grinned. Kaminari smacked the back of his head.

"You good with that?" Uraraka asked, looking at Izuku, not even caring to ask if Bakugou was okay with it.

"Don't care," Izuku sniffed. His friends were right, he realized. He needed to head home before he embarrassed himself further.

"Yep, we're going," Bakugou said. "Later, extras." He gathered up their stuff, and before he knew it, he was being marched out of the bar to the sounds of wolf-whistles.

Bakugou hailed a cab, and Izuku gave the address. The car ride was quiet, with Bakugou staring out the window like his life depended on it. Izuku resisted the urge to throw himself on the man. He couldn't come off too strong. He'd somehow lured his old friend out of exile, and he was terrified of scaring him off.

Bakugou walked him all the way to his apartment complex's door. "You can get to your place okay?"

"Of course," Izuku said, wanting desperately to seem like an adult. He was an adult, damn it. There was a pause, and he filled it, not wanting Bakugou to go. "Did you have fun?"

"With those idiots?" Bakugou scoffed, then softened. "Sure, I guess. Could be worse."

"Aw," Izuku grinned. "Cute." Then he slapped his hand over his mouth. Old Bakugou would have smacked him for that, but new Bakugou just cackled.

"I'm the cutest motherfucker out there, nerd. Text me when you're in your room, kay?"

"Um," Izuku said, realizing he was about to leave. "You want to uh-" he faltered, suddenly wishing he was sober. Bakugou shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting.

"Hang out later," Izuku choked out, feeling like a failure. Bakugou's eyebrows shot up.

"Hang out? Fine. I'm not on the fucking group chat anymore, though, so you have to tell me when."

"N-no," Izuku stammered. Damn, this was hard.

"No, I'm not invited back?" Bakugou said, voice dry. Izuku had the distinct impression that he was being toyed with.

"No, not that!" He gushed, then pulled himself together. Here goes nothing. "I meant, like. Hang out. Not with everyone."

"Alone," Bakugou drawled, a smirk crawling across his face. "Sure, Deku. We can hang out alone."

"G-good," Izuku said quickly. "Night."

Then he bolted, again.

Heart pounding, inside his apartment, he sent the promised text.

Izuku: _Got imside safe goodnight kacchann _

He didn't see the replies until the next morning, thanks to flinging his phone on the couch and running for the safety of bed, and promptly passing out. In the morning, Bakugou's replies waited for him.

Kacchan: _Sleep well nerd _  
Kacchan: _Fcking text me when u want to meet k  
_Kacchan: _Dont forget to hydrate _


	3. Chapter 3: Bitchugou

When to hang out with Bakugou? Bakugou. He'd Ruffled Izuku's Hair. Izuku was officially overwhelmed. He could have his Pro Overwhelmed License at this rate.

Izuku had wanted to be friends with him, right? They'd been friends at one point, maybe from four to eight years old. Four years of friendship. Bakugo had flushed all that down the toilet, and Izuku had kept plunging away like an idiot for years after, hoping to bring back something already dead.

Now Bakugou was back. Really, actually back. Back in his life. Backugou.

Sober and awake, the reality of it floored Izuku. Bakugo had walked into their old class's night out like he hadn't just stormed out of their lives years ago. He'd actually had conversations with people.

Sure, he'd always been close with Kirishima and Kaminari, but then, those three were terrors together. Their rampages were legendary at UA, and were actually largely Kaminari's fault. Still, it would be a huge stretch to describe Bakugou as _friends _with anyone else in their class. And here Izuku was, bold as balls, trying to befriend him again.

Except now Izuku wanted to do decidedly unfriendly things to Kacchan after the night before. The whole concept of it was making Izuku unfairly irritable. It kept running through his head, an incessant movie of why Bakugou was stupidly irresistible. His pecs under that cursed loose tank top. How soft his hair had looked in dim bar lighting. The way he had shoved his hands in his pockets, pushing already low-riding jeans lower. Izuku groaned aloud, despairing of any useful thoughts.

So he ignored the relatively friendly texts in his inbox, and instead poured himself into doing the best hero work he could, catching up on paperwork, running patrols, keeping everyone up to date on everything.

He was a great hero. Easy to work with. He focused on that, and made it through the whole day without losing his mind entirely. He managed not to check his phone until it was night. Momo's night shift this time, thankfully. Izuku was just about to hit the steam room at the gym, when his pocket buzzed, making him jump. With a sigh, he pulled his phone. Probably not Bakugou. He was absolutely not disappointed to see it really wasn't Bakugou.

Ochako 3: _Yo, you get home safe last nite? Bitchugou didn't try anything shady? _

Izuku snorted despite himself. Uraraka had a special way with words, sometimes.

Izuku: _Yeah, all good. _

After a moment of thought, he decided to confide in his friend.

Izuku: _It was OK to bring him back, right? When did he stop coming in the first place? _

There was a long moment before he got a response. Apparently, she'd been typing.

Ochako 3: _We sort of… um. We never told you, but we unofficially uninvited him? :/  
_Ochako 3: _You wouldnt come out if he was there, and then we noticed you would turn up when he skipped so we just sort of stopped but it wasn't really planned you no? _

Izuku stared at the screen, feeling inexplicably guilty. When had that happened? Had he really been avoiding Bakugou? It was hard to figure out who had subtly avoided the other first, honestly. He sat down heavily on the locker room bench, ignoring the few other people messing with their stuff.

When had it started? If he was being honest with himself, he knew. It just hurt to remember. He'd been petty and mean, he realized. It was just before their third year at UA, and Bakugou had inexplicably pulled his head out of his ass enough not to scream at everyone who talked to him. He wasn't sure, but he vaguely remembered shouting at him at one of Kaminari's debauched parties. He'd never thought much of it, but Bakugou had seemed more subdued afterward.

Izuku hadn't been used to the silence, though, twisted as it was, and he had hated the lack of attention. After making a few timid attempts, Izuku had decided if Bakugou didn't want to engage, then he wouldn't either. Petty. Thinking back, he should have wondered if Bakugou hadn't actually been trying to grow. He should have helped him. He should have…

No. Izuku's head thumped back into the wall. He didn't owe Bakugou anything, regardless of how much Izuku wanted him. As a friend. It was hard to remember sometimes, but then Izuku had learned the hard way. One of his greatest strengths was his single-minded loyalty. It was also one of his greatest weaknesses. It was why he'd struggled so much with learning to use One for All, why he'd clung to Bakugou despite the bullying. Why he used to ruin himself helping one person, and fail to help others. And it was also why he made an amazing hero. Sweet, cruel irony.

His pocket buzzed. Bakugou?

Ochako 3: _Hey you ok? Sry that was a lot _

Izuku:_ I feel kinda bad _

Ochako 3: _Dont! B-face coulda avoided it all by not being a jerk for 10 sec ok? Anyway everyone is rly happy hes trying now tho as long as youre happy _

Izuku: _Am I happy? OR AM I HORNY SEND HELP URARAKA _

Ochako 3: _Yeah youre hopeless. Ill bring flowers to your funeral _

Izuku: _Thank you very much prayer emoji_

Ochako 3: _And the headstone will say "got a boner for explosions"_

Izuku: _I am no longer thankful_

It didn't take Izuku an entire month to text Bakugou back, so that was an improvement. Positive thinking! This time, it only took him a week. In his defense, he'd taken three more night shifts from Momo (who _was _she seeing? Some fucking night owl?) and had grown a huge zit on his forehead. Which meant he couldn't text Bakugou, obviously. Then his drain had clogged, and he'd had to call a plumber, and he'd been called in for two emergencies, and and and… Excuses.

It turns out it's more awkward to text someone after a week than it is one day. Izuku didn't actually want to leave it any longer, and he was starting to feel kind of like a dick. He'd invited Bakugou out, then left him hanging for seven days. If Bakugou had done it, he'd have been pissed. So he did his best to send something.

Izuku: _I hydrated! _

He managed not to drop his phone at the immediate response, but it was a close call.

Kacchan: _For a whole week? LMFAO _

Izuku laughed, worries banished. Apparently Bakugou wasn't holding it against him. What a saint. A model of forgiveness, the pinnacle of-

Kacchan: _Better be rly fcking hydrated u piece of shit  
_Kacchan: _Ur lucky i even txt u back _

Izuku sighed, more amused than concerned. Typical Bakugou.

Izuku: _Yeah, yeah, you're so mad and scary. That's why you texted me back so quickly :) _

Kacchan: _My anger is swift ok?  
_Kacchan: _And i wanted to txt u anyway _

Izuku was shell-shocked. It felt faintly familiar, in a new kind of way. Bakugou's new one-two punch. Something typical and shitty, then something softer. Did he know how much it was affecting Izuku? It was unfair. Nothing he did bothered Bakugou at all. He may as well be Cementoss for all Bakugou cared.

Izuku: _Okay, yeah I am lucky. :) Let's do something this weekend? _

He stared at his phone. He was waiting for a rejection, he realized.

Kacchan: _Im free tonight _

Izuku: _I've got paperwork but should be done by like 3 PM _

Oh no. He'd answered without thinking. It made it seem like he wanted to go out today, which was um. Not what he'd mentally prepared himself for. He wanted to find an outfit that didn't look like a librarian trying to be cool. No, his outfit had to say, 'I'm an adult and also grew up attractive and sort of successful but I've known you since you were four so please be friends with me again.'

So like, a sweater and jeans? Fun sneakers?

Kacchan: _Lol paperwork on sat. Usually i joke about u being a nerd but its obv actually true  
_Kacchan: _6pm at mcmarins? Wait do u like dive bars _

Izuku: _See you there _

Did Izuku like dive bars? He did not. Did Izuku feel like he had the mental bandwidth to continue texting Bakugou about where to go like it was some sort of godforsaken date? No, he did not.

Izuku rushed to the office, rushed through paperwork. Finishing by 3 PM and meeting Kacchan at 6 PM meant he had 3 hours to prepare but if getting home took 30 minutes then 2 and a half and and then maybe thirty minutes to get there so that was 2 hours and he'd need 20 minutes to shower and Izuku didn't know what to wear to dive bars that would also make him look adult and desirable and put together and he didn't know anyone but Kacchan who would-

He train of thought ground to a halt as he remembered when Bakugou had burst back into his life. He'd said… "You still mutter like a freak." Like his mind had taken a photo, he could remember that pleased grin, the sun warming his eyes, the cocky tilt of his head. Like Bakugou had been _happy _to see Izuku doing something familiar. Shit. Uraraka would make so much fun of him for caring about this.

Izuku is actually a really adept hero and while not a natural at paperwork, his determination to do everything well meant he'd mastered the process even back as a sidekick. He was done by 2:30 PM and proceeded to spend as much time as possible agonizing over what to wear.

In the back of his closet, a Ground Zero hoodie was staring at him. It's black, and has a neon orange and yellow explosion in vaporwave style. Not exactly punk, but far punkier than anything else in his closet. He'd never worn it. Izuku tried to imagine exactly what Bakugou would do if he saw him in his merch. Probably laugh so hard he'd DIE. Izuku would die, that is, of embarrassment.

He ended up with distressed black jeans, charcoal and orange sneakers, and an old band T-Shirt. It wasn't quite cold enough for a jacket. Satisfied, he checked the clock. Only 2 hours before he had to meet Bakugou. Yes, he'd overprepared.

"mcmarins" was actually McMarin's Salt-Store Dive. Apparently it used to be some weird boutique apothecary back in the day, but it definitely wasn't now. Even at 5:50 PM, people were milling around out front. People not in Izuku's usual crowd. As Deku the Hero, Izuku could get along with pretty much anyone. As Izuku, it was intimidating. He wondered if he should go in, or loiter outside. At least he sort of looked like he fit in. He'd texted Tokoyami for advice, but Izuku had a fundamental lack of things with skulls on them (which was apparently all Tokoyami knew about punk things?), so it hadn't been helpful. Izuku spent a good five minutes debating what to do, until his thoughts were interrupted by a shout.

"Oi, nerd!" Izuku whipped around. He'd know Bakugou's voice anywhere, even though adulthood had unfairly deepened it.

Bakugou was stomping down the sidewalk towards him, one arm raised. He wore a dark green, satin bomber over (revealingly) tight black pants, and some bulky high top shoes that shouldn't look cool, but did. He also wore huge sunglasses and a beanie, like a goddamn celebrity.

Oh. He _was _a goddamn celebrity. Izuku raised one hand in a little wave, feeling strangely self-conscious. No one ever managed to equate Midoriya Izuku with Deku.

"Don't you look good enough to eat," Bakugo grinned, as soon as he was in earshot. Embarrassing. Izuku swallowed hard. Bakugou wasn't flirting. Bakugou wouldn't flirt. And if he did, it wouldn't be with Izuku.

"Glamorous sunglasses, Kacchan," he said, rallying himself. Bakugou just waved one hand, leading the way inside.

"Don't wanna be swarmed by shitty press tonight, sweetcheeks."

Sweetcheeks. Definitely not flirting. Izuku considered cutting his own head off and rolling it into the sewer where it belonged. Bakugou's pet names didn't seem that affectionate, if he was being honest. More like, well, like a spirited attempt to reduce Izuku to a blushing mess, something that apparently still amused Bakugou to no end.

Some things never change.

McMarin's was dark inside, heavy rock music thudding in the background. Bakugou was already heading to the bar, and Izuku hurried to catch up. He made it in time to hear the bartender say,

"Yo, B-Man! Where ya been?"

"Don't you watch the news? Fucking working my ass off, Beni. Shitty villains all over the goddamn place these days."

Beni muttered something that Izuku couldn't catch. Bakugo pulled off the hat and glasses, and turned to Izuku. It was like someone had suddenly turned a million watt light on in Izuku's poor, innocent face. Bakugou's undivided attention was overwhelming, bright, and burning. Izuku felt like he was on a tiny boat in a flood, desperately trying to not tip and drown.

"I'll get your drink this time," Izuku said, quickly. Reclaim the situation. Take the high ground. He Could Do This.

"Thanks, shithead." The insult made Izuku snort with laughter. Only Bakugou could make _shithead _sound affectionate. In no time, they had their beers and were catching up.

Bakugou apparently had been recognized for excellent hero work six months ago. This wasn't news to Izuku, who apparently had a finely-tuned Kacchan-radar and an encyclopedic knowledge of every hero-related thing Ground Zero had ever done. Bakugo had only been a pro hero for three years to Izuku's four. Bakugou was suspended for a day last month for getting involved in a street brawl. Bakugou had stormed out of a TV's show segment when they'd asked him one too many personal questions. Bakugou had been on the front pages of four different National News issues in the last two years (one of which was shirtless). Bakugou had been instrumental in taking down the Slingbreak Gang. Bakugou had done three months of community service for exploding buildings he was not supposed to explode. Et cetera, et cetera.

Izuku knew all this already, so when Bakugou started talking about work, Izuku stopped him.

"No, I want to hear about what you've been up to. Not Ground Zero. Anyone can watch the news, you know?"

Bakugou blinked at him slowly. Izuku was coming to realize a pause from Bakugou usually meant he was turning something over in his mind, inevitably coming up with something that would make Izuku blush. Bakugou finally said, "Stalking me on the news, are ya?"

"I keep up to date on all hero activity," Izuku said, a little too quickly. Still, it was relatively true. "But I have no idea what you do. Do you just like, blow stuff up and sleep?"

"And work out," Bakugou added helpfully. Yes, he definitely did. Adult Bakugou was taller, and had filled out. Of course he had. He'd always been a gym rat, always trained hard. Sure, he wasn't as bulky as Kirishima. Izuku's personal opinion was that he wanted to avoid being too heavy, what with his explosive flying nonsense. But he was still built as all hell.

"Yeah, you do," Izuku found himself saying. Bakugou's mouth dropped open, but he recovered quickly.

"Of fucking course. Can't explode shit with weak ass arms." He took a sip of beer, something dark and horribly bitter, Izuku figured. He continued after a moment, "Got a fucking life though, ya know? Only kept in touch with a few of our shitty classmates, but I work with a lot of okay people. Got some friends. I mostly just, work and hang out and work out, I guess. Kinda boring."

Izuku was completely charmed. Bakugou was actually talking about his life like he had the ability to self-reflect. He found himself smiling, chin resting on his hand. "Tell me more," he said. His beer, a lighter, fruiter one, was giving him a pleasant buzz.

"Man Deku, I'm boring as shit," he groaned. "Quit being nosy. Your turn to put out."

Izuku heroically ignored the phrasing. "Mkay. My life's not that cool either, you know?"

"Fucking shocked."

"Kacchan," Izuku fake-scolded. Bakugou's lips curved into a smile that Izuku also bravely ignored. "As I was saying, not that cool. Though I did just get approved to have a sidekick! I'm not really ready yet, but it's nice they believe in me. I have the third-best safety rating in my quadrant, actually, but this one time-"

"You leveled an evacuated city block when fighting King Rat or some shit," Bakugou interrupted. "Everyone heard about that. Don't cop out with work bull. What's a nerd like you been doing all this time?"

"You know," Izuku muttered, feeling a little flattered that Bakugou cared in the first place. He cleared his throat, "Um, you know. Stuff. Mostly work, and friends? I had a hardcore hero movie phase, and I've been trying to, I don't know. Do more stuff. Like I've been learning to bake, and I did a ceramics class with Uraraka, stupid stuff." He waited for the ridicule.

"I've been taking goddamn cooking classes," Bakugou said. "No baking, but my curry is fucking amazing."

Oh. Izuku knew, distantly, that he was smiling like an idiot. They were connecting. They'd never connected like this before, and it felt so good. So right. Like something in his chest was knitting itself back together. Izuku has a tendency to be impulsive when he's happy, so of course he had to say the riskiest shit he could.

"Maybe I'll bake you something."

Bakugou covered his mouth with a hand. Izuku's heart fell. He'd stepped too far. Bakugou was being nice, and stopping himself from saying something rude. He sipped his beer again, nervous in the quiet moment.

"You wouldn't appreciate my curry," he said, finally, face solemn. "Too spicy for a shitty weakling like you."

Izuku blinked at him. Was he being insulted? Was Bakugou insinuating he'd consider _cooking for Izuku? _

"But I'd make it for you anyway," the other man finished gruffly, looking away. "Just don't bitch about how hot it is."

"O-okay," Deku stammered. Bakugou was still staring off into the distance, but Izuku would have paid a shocking amount of money to see his expression right now. Bakugou was… Damn. He was actually trying, wasn't he? Izuku knew it was dangerous. He had no damn self-control when it came to Bakugou, honestly. Even the slightest hint of interest made him overjoyed. So they sat for a few minutes in companionable silence. Izuku was having some very detailed daydreams about Bakugou cooking for him in an apron, and was therefore enormously shocked when someone slammed a hand down in between them.

"Katsuki!" The guy shouted. He was huge, blue-tinged, with gills on his neck. Bakugou, apparently unsurprised, glanced up. In contrast, Izuku jumped so much he nearly spilled his drink.

"Fish-face!" Bakugou shouted back. "Where you been?"

"The Maldives, and you damn well know it," the guy grinned. "Back at work tomorrow!"

Ah, it was a coworker. "Hey, I'm Deku," Izuku ventured. The guy blinked at him, looking vaguely confused. Bakugou jumped in.

"He's my- he's with me," he struggled. "This is Onito, also works in my shitty sector."

"Oy, our sector's the best," Onito grinned, then grabbed Izuku's hand to shake it vigorously. "Nice to meet you! So happy our fave bomb-boy's making new friends! No one ever wants to deal with his horrible personality!"

Bakugou's hands audibly smacked against his face, as he groaned. "Shove off, fishy. Keep that bullshit up and I'll sell you at PetSmart, fucker."

"So cute!" Onito shouted, slapping a surprisingly patient Bakugou on the back. Izuku found himself laughing. The two of them were obviously friends, and it was actually nice to see. Then Onito spun Izuku around on the stool, and placed two huge hand-flippers on his shoulders.

"Deku. Katsuki's a good guy, okay? I know he seems super shitty, but you should give him a chance. The news makes him look bad but he's actually super punctual and gets all his shit done. Management's damn pet, I swear, I mean stuff they let him get away with? You wouldn't believe it."

"Um, thanks," Izuku said, trying to smother laughter. Behind him, Bakugou was clearly barely controlling his temper. Izuku threw him a cheeky grin. "He's kind of-"

"And he desperately needs more friends," Onito continued, shooting a conspiratorial glance at Bakugou, who looked about five seconds away from homicide. "You must be super patient and-"

"Oy, Fish-flakes! Deku is _Midoriya Izuku _. He's known me since I was four. He already knows this shit, you pushy fucker."

Onito jumped back, wides eye. "Oh shit!" He stared at Bakugou, then back to Izuku, who was full-on laughing now. "No way. Midoriya?! Izuku?! Your first fucking kiss?"

His what? Izuku, blinked, laughter fading, trying to understand. Bakugou looked thunderous, shoving himself up into Onito's face.

"What the fuck man? Shut the hell up. And get the fuck out."

"Dude, I'm sorry, I-"

"Out," Bakugou snarled, then turned to Izuku.

"But we never kissed," Izuku said, mind reeling. Why would Bakugou lie about that? Bakugou never lied. The man in question sat down heavily, rubbing his face. Izuku clutched his beer nervously, happy buzz long gone.

"You could say that," Bakugous mumbled. Then he took a deep breath, and looked Izuku in the eye. "You didn't kiss me. I kissed you. Back when we were in fucking UA. I thought you knew, or I wasn't sure if you did or if you remembered, but-"

"What?" Izuku was getting a little loud. His ribcage felt too tight. "You what? When? I don't remember this! Did you dream it? Are you messing with me? It's not funny!"

Bakugou rubbed his face, looking stressed. "No Deku, I fucking kissed you. Mouth and shit. I was- I was stupid, okay? Really drunk. Didn't know you were too plastered to remember, and of course I never did again and-"

"W-when was this?" Izuku asked quietly. Something else was playing through his mind. _His _first kiss. Todoroki Shouto, at the end of their third year at UA. A romance that had failed to start, but it had been such a good first kiss. They'd woken up to see the sunrise over cherry blossoms, and Izuku had...

"Right before our third year started," Bakugou said softly.

"So that was my first time," Izuku realized, eyes welling up. His treasured memory - apparently he didn't even remember his real first kiss. And it had been drunken, at one of Kaminari's parties. Unbearable.

"What the fuck, Bakugou?" he shouted. Bakugou flinched, his face tight. Izuku was relentless. "You took my first fucking kiss and never even told me? I can't even remember it! Why would you do that to me? Why wouldn't you say something?"

"I'm fucking sorry," he said, holding Izuku's glare. "Look, it was a huge mistake-"

"Of course it was," Izuku snarled. Of course it'd be a mistake for _Bakugou _to _kiss _him and,

"I'd never do it again," Bakugou blurted. "Look, it didn't even mean anything, just-"

It was too much. First Izuku didn't remember his own first kiss, and to learn it had meant nothing to Bakugou? He was shaking, he realized. Shaking with anger, and with hurt. He wasn't supposed to break his heart over Bakugou this time. He'd thought it'd be different. Or that he could keep a safe distance. That somehow the years would have dulled any pain Bakugou could have caused. He'd been wrong.

"Fuck off, Bakugou," he snapped, one hand brushing away tears. "You may not care, but I give a shit! I like fucking romantic shit and you just ruined something important to me!"

"Izuku, I-"

Izuku grabbed his phone and stormed out, making it halfway down the block before Bakugou caught up.

"Izuku, wait! Look, I-"

"No," Izuku snapped, turning on him. He didn't care that Bakugou looked absolutely gutted. "You don't get this. You already took too much from me, damn it. I don't have to be okay with this! I don't have to forgive you! I don't have to understand! Just leave me alone," he finished, voice breaking. "I'm leaving. Don't fucking touch me."

He called a cab, hand trembling. Bakugou had backed off, watching him uncertainly.

Izuku went home, crawled in bed, and cried himself to sleep. He'd been stupid to think he could be friends with Bakugou again. Stupid, and naive, and childish. He needed to let go. His stupid childhood friendship didn't _have _to mean anything now. He had to stop forcing this stuff. That's why it always hurt so badly. He needed to stop. Forcing. Everything. He was done. He drifted off to sleep, eyes scratchy and throat raw.


	4. Chapter 4: 1,000 out of 10

Katsuki dealt with it relatively well. He went to the gym and punched things for about four hours until his knuckles were bloody and his arms shaking. Then he went home and meditated on how he was a massive fuckup, and should never have spoken to anyone or possibly shouldn't even have existed in the first place. Maybe Izuku would actually be happier if Katsuki had never existed. No, he _definitely _would be happier. Katsuki was a net negative in Izuku's life, and it made him want to put his head in his hands and set off his strongest explosion.

He didn't sleep that night, and by 4 AM he'd realized that no matter how much he _should_, he couldn't let Deku go again. At least, not so easily. But he was all too aware that in this case, he was the fucking villain. Deku wanted to be left alone, and Katsuki would do what he wanted. He just had to put something out there, some chance that maybe Deku would forgive him.

Bakugou Katsuki: _Izuku, I'm really sorry. I'm here if you want to talk about it or have any questions. Or I can just shut the fuck up and listen. Just please let me have a chance to properly apologize to you. _

He was shocked to get a quick reply, so shocked he nearly exploded his goddamn phone.

Midoriya Izuku (Deku): _FUCKK OF _

* * *

Izuku barely remembered the exchange. He felt hungover the next day, like a soggy shell of himself. He picked up his phone, looking at it blandly.

Kacchan: _Izuku, I'm really sorry. I'm here if you want to talk about it or have any questions. Or I can just shut the fuck up and listen. Just please let me have a chance to properly apologize to you. _

Izuku: _FUCKK OF _

He was too emotionally drained to care what he'd texted Bakugou. Maybe if it hadn't been 4 AM, he'd have replied more nicely. Or at least with correct spelling.

He was drained, physically and emotionally. He'd made a huge mistake. It was too painful to see Bakugou, after everything. He managed to get through the entire process of waking up, showering, and making black tea before he started crying again.

And Izuku felt like shit. He was torn, so torn. There'd been a time when learning Bakugou had _kissed him _would have made his whole life. He was so frustrated he couldn't remember what it felt like to kiss Bakugou. And even worse, Bakugou apparently hadn't cared? Kissing Izuku had meant nothing to him? So what if he was sorry now?

Izuku was just massively disappointed, and angry with himself. He should have known better than to go chasing after Bakugou again. He was older now. He knew better, damn it. Izuku ran through his familiar morning routines, calming himself. He took a slow jog to the HQ's gym, and carefully ran through warm-ups. Izuku treated his body with the utmost care, always stretching, warming up slowly, then intensifying his workout. The steam room came after, then the final stretches. Lunch was usually from the local market, and then he'd drop by the office in case there was paperwork.

Finally, he ran out of routine. And Bakugou had kissed him.

He might have overreacted a little, last night. Izuku hated becoming emotional, but he was growing to accept it was just a part of who he was, and Bakugou had always brought it out in him.

Finally conceding defeat, he called Shouto. Shouto was arguably his closest friend. He spent the most time with Uraraka, but it was with Shouto that he had the deepest conversations. He could count on Uraraka to champion him, but Shouto would call him on his shit. He perched on his balcony, unafraid of falling. His friend picked up on the 5th ring.

"Deku?"

"You weren't my first kiss," Izuku said, straight to the point. Small talk was generally wasted on Shouto, after all. There's a pause on the line.

"I know. It was Bakugou, right?"

"You knew?" Izuku half-shrieked, precariously leaning over the edge before regaining his balance. It was the last thing he'd expected.

"You didn't?" Shouto sounded amused, then concerned. "Wait, why are you bringing this up now?"

"Bakugou told me last night," Izuku muttered.

"Huh," Shouto said, which was about his equivalent of shouting. "He's back, then?"

"He was," Izuku sighed. "But he, I don't even, he didn't, god I'm such a mess. I didn't want my first kiss to be like that, you know?"

"It looked nice enough to me," Shouto said, calmly. He may as well have smacked Izuku across the face with a brick.

"Nice? How?"

"I'm guessing you don't remember it. We were all too drunk that night, if I remember correctly. None of us could hold our alcohol. Deku, how can I help you?"

Izuku sighed heavily. Shouto had an undeniable calming effect on him, but sometimes it was like talking to a wall. He needed to be instructed on _how _to interact, and while normally Izuku was more than happy to provide that, sometimes he didn't have the emotional bandwidth.

"You're right," he said, stopping himself from whining. "I don't remember it, and that really bothers me. Maybe you could tell me what happened?"

"Sure. I didn't see that much. You were off in a corner, weirdly quiet. Really I just saw him lean in and kiss you for a few seconds."

"A few seconds," Izuku coughed.

"Yes. Then you left, and he followed you. Does that help?"

"Ugh," was all Izuku could say. "Thank you."

"Anytime. It's strange that Bakugou would come back now, though."

"What do you mean?"

"He just seems pretty busy," Shouto mused. "We keep up, but he never said anything about getting in touch with you."

That also kind of hurt. "It hasn't been that long, and it was an accident. I ran into him and wanted to catch up, is all."

"So he agreed, then," came the quiet reply. Izuku tried not to be impatient.

"Yes, and it was a horrible idea," Izuku added, a little spitefully. It felt wrong to be spiteful on such a nice day, but Izuku was a strong, independent man. He could feel spiteful in any weather if he wanted to. "I'm done with him now," he added, the words tentative. It was surprisingly hard to say.

"Oh," Shouto said. "Well, it's up to you. I'm sure he'll be there if you want him."

If Izuku wanted him. It was impossible not to want him. God, that had been seven years ago. Was he really going to throw this away for one mistake from nearly a decade ago? With a massive sigh, Izuku decided he was being dramatic. Sure, Bakugou could have handled the conversation better, but Izuku begrudgingly acknowledged that at least he'd been willing to talk. It was Izuku who'd run out.

Without paying. Great, now he felt guilty too.

Izuku: _Ok, we can talk _

He waited for the reply. If the past was any indicator, it should be coming any second. But it didn't, and the ache in Izuku's chest was getting worse.

He spent an hour uselessly puttering around the apartment until his phone rang. He raced to it, snatching it off the counter.

It was work. There was an emergency: apparently some idiot villain had overloaded his quick in the wrong area and a massive wave was heading towards a beach. He had twenty minutes to get there.

Izuku got there in fifteen, armed and ready. He dropped by the temporary triage station, already full of frightened citizens. His heart lurched. There were just so many still in the water. His orders were to get everyone out that he could. There was already a team after the villain, apparently.

Full Cowling took over, and Izuku jumped clear to the water, soaring over tents, the street, the beach. In the air, he could analyze where he was needed first. To the north he spotted Ururaka, swimming for land with ten people suspended in the air above her. She was incredible.

Izuku landed in the surf with a splash. He went to help a family carry their four kids, and after that, an elderly woman stuck in her innertube, and it became a blur. An hour of constant running in Full Cowling could wear even Izuku out, but they got everyone out. Every hero that could be useful was there, all exhausted and dripping. The sounds of people crying was drowned out by the huge wave crashing on the beach, and rushing up past the road and through a couple of ice cream stands. People screamed, even though they were safe in their vantage point. Izuku was getting a headache.

He met up with Uraraka and Iida in the check-in, grabbing the forms for debrief. In cases like this, it was pointless to debrief everyone individually.

Izuku was almost finished by the time Bakugou walked in. Murmurs followed him, and Izuku soon realized why. He and Onito were dragging someone behind them. The guy looked half-dead. Was he a survivor that had been left in the surf?

Bakugou hefted him by the back of his shirt and tossed him in front of the desk. "Here's the guy," he barked, then spat on the ground. "Fucking seawater."

The man in question made some sort of blubbering noise. Izuku wondered who'd made the choice to set a guy who dealt with explosions against someone who could cause a tidal wave. Bakugou looked like a drowned cat, hair dripping into his eyes, knuckles bloody. Izuku knew it was pointless, but he was worried about him.

Bakugou turned to go, but the clerk shouted after him, "Ground Zero! Quit slinking out and debrief."

He must have been tired, because he didn't even snap back a retort. His eyes caught on Izuku's as he headed to the back of the tent, and he gave him a small nod. Izuku's heart twisted. Damn it, he missed him already.

He loitered only a little, hoping for another glimpse of Bakugou, but gave up quickly. He was too tired after having barely slept the night before. He even turned down an invitation from Uraraka to go get udon, which was a travesty all by itself.

At home, he switched on the news, hoping to learn more about the villain. There was an image of a reporter talking for a moment, then it cut to a replay of the fight. Ground Zero and Fishury were on screen, as tiny figures chasing someone down the beach. Some daring helicopter swooped in, just in time to catch the action.

Ground Zero jetted forwards, propelled by a massive, continuous explosion. Izuku knew the move - it was one Bakugou hadn't been able to do when they were kids, the stress on his arms being too much. Now, though, he rocketed forwards over sixty feet, smoke and fire trailing behind him. Fishury trailed behind him, diving into the surf to swim. Fishury, or Onito. Izuku curled up on the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

Ground Zero landed in front of a villain like a comet, making a glassy crater in the sand. Another explosion, and he was shooting towards the villain.

Instead of an explosion on impact, though, water swelled and covered them both. Izuku's hands flew to his mouth, despite already knowing the outcome. The water shifted and bubbled. Helicopters circled, and a reporter's voice offscreen said something about the boiling point of seawater.

Then the water was bubbling, no, boiling. Izuku was in awe. The reporters didn't seem particularly impressed, but did they not know the massive amount of effort it'd take to heat that much water? While holding your breath? What felt like an eternity later, a huge plume of water shot upwards, then it all washed away, revealing the prone villain and Ground Zero on his hands and knees. Fishury crawled out of the water, looking-half dead. Izuku realized they'd made a fundamental tactical error. Sending someone who relies on water against someone who can apparently control it?

He wanted words with whoever assigned missions in Bakugou's sector.

Apparently noticing he was on camera, Ground Zero pulled himself up off the ground, coughed, and flipped off the cameras. Izuku's heart felt tight, as it always did watching him do hero work. He worked so hard, but all people wanted to look at was his fiery temper. They should appreciate him for how hard he tried, how many people he saved - not how many times he'd cursed at government officials.

The screen cut away, and Izuku found himself staring emptily at it. He checked his phone again. Nothing. Maybe Bakugou was still debriefing?

Maybe he'd never text Izuku again.

By the next morning, Izuku was irritated. He'd been called into work, which was a good thing. It kept his mind off of his phone screen, which remained stubbornly empty of notifications from _Kacchan. _Who sent such a well-written text begging to talk, then refused to text him back?

He gave in on his walk home, and called him. The number rang, rang, rang. The answering tone, Bakugou's voice snapping, "If I sent you to voicemail, get the fucking message and get lost, loser."

What a hero. Izuku was smiling at his phone until he realized _he'd _reached voicemail. He was the loser who should get lost. He was lost in thought enough that he didn't notice the figure in front of his building until he nearly ran into him. Black jeans, high-tops, and an enormous puffy jacket with a furry trim on the hood. Even with the face in shadow, Izuku knew who it was. He froze.

"Yo," Bakugou said, raising his hand. "Phone got wasted by the shitty villain, so I'm just giving you my new number." He thrust a paper at Izuku, who took it, mind racing. It was impossible to read Bakugou's expression behind the huge aviators. How long had he been waiting? He swallowed, trying to pull himself together, but Bakugou was already turning to leave.

Already?

"Wait!" Izuku shouted. Bakugou turned, hands in his pockets. "Did you get my text?"

He shook his head. Izuku swallowed. It was harder to do this in person. "I wanted to talk," he said, clenching his fists.

"Sure," said Bakugou. Izuku was instantly transported back to when they'd first run into each other. Bakugou and his 'sures' were going to be the death of him.

"Sorry for running off without paying," Izuku said, straightening his posture. Bakugou barked out a laugh.

"What the fuck, Deku."

"Shouldn't have done that," Izuku said, refusing to be swallowed by embarrassment. Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You drive me up a fucking wall. That's what you wanted to talk about?"

"No," Izuku said quickly. "Come inside?"

"I'd love to," Bakugou said, half-sarcastic, with a voice full of gravel.

Soon enough, Bakugou was perched on one of his barstools, puffy jacket and all. He reminded Izuku bizarrely of an angry, puffed-up bird. He put his sunglasses carefully on the counter, the clink of metal on marble too loud. An awkward silence stretched.

Feeling kind of like an asshole, Izuku sat on the back of his couch and faced down his former friend. "So, you wanted to apologize."

"Fuckin' yep." Bakugou cracked his knuckles, shifting in his seat like he'd rather be anywhere but exactly where he was. Izuku waited. And waited. Finally, he gave in.

"You okay? After the whole beach thing? It looked pretty bad."

"Pretty bad?" Bakugou was outraged. "I was fucking awesome, nerd. You ever tried to blow up shit underwater?"

"You were cool," Izuku corrected himself without thinking. A grin slapped itself across Bakugou's face instantly. "Looked like a hard fight."

"S'right," he said, making miniature explosions dance across his palm. "HQ interrogated me for five goddamn hours after that, for fuck's sake."

Then a pause. "I didn't come here for that bullshit, though. I owe you an apology. Or an explanation, fuck if I know."

Izuku could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He didn't really want it to be like this. It felt wrong, to force Bakugou to apologize for something from so long ago, but it had hurt, damn it.

"I'm sorry, Deku. For kissing you without permission, for never talking to you about it, and for being an asshole to you for so long. You didn't deserve any of it."

Izuku felt himself tearing up. The words were hard to hear, after so long of hardening his heart to it. It reminded him of the day after their graduation. Bakugou had approached him and said largely the same thing, but relatively less sincerely. And without the bit about kissing. Izuku had said he'd forgiven him, because what else would Izuku say? Regardless of whether it was true or not, Izuku wasn't about to admit he'd hold a grudge against anyone. Still, after that first apology, Izuku had hidden in a janitorial closet and sobbed next to some mops. He refused to do that now.

Apparently the silence had stretched for too long, because Bakugou folded his arms and lifted his chin.

"Look, Deku, I want to be friends again. Be back in your fucking life, but I'm not interested in spending all my fucking time groveling. It's been a long ass time, and it's up to you if you want to move on."

Izuku's lips parted. He hadn't expected something like this. Maybe he _had _expected Bakugou to just grovel endlessly. Before he could marshal his thoughts, Bakugou continued.

"I've got my own shit going on, okay? Work, friends, all of that. So do you. We don't have to do this, if it's too damn painful for you. M'not interested in dragging all that old shit around. So if I can make this better, tell me how, and I'll do it. But only if it's going to fucking make things better."

It was overwhelming really, to be stared down by Bakugou Katsuki. Even if he was apologizing to you. Especially if he was apologizing to you. Izuku's fingers were digging into his knees, and he tried to control his emotions. He wanted to go cry somewhere, maybe shout something, but he couldn't. Not if Bakugou fucking Katsuki had managed to cough up a real apology. He at least deserved a good answer.

"I'm not just sorry for running off without paying," Isuku said, proud his voice was only shaking slightly. "I'm sorry for running off without giving you a chance to talk. It's not how I want to be, as a person, you know? I think sometimes you bring out, I don't know. How I used to be back then, when even the slightest thing would overwhelm me."

"Huh."

"I'm not really that mad," Izuku sighed. "Just kind of sad, I guess. Kind of confused maybe?"

"Confused about what?"

Izuku stared at him. Maybe Bakugou was stupid after all. "About why you would kiss me? I thought you hated me back then? I actually thought you never stopped hating me, really. And um," he flushed, hating his need to be honest, "I don't like that I don't know what happened. That I can't remember it, what it was like. Did I like it? Hate it? I don't know! And why wouldn't you tell me? How did it never come up?"

Bakugou barked out a laugh. "Deku. How the fuck would I have brought that up? 'Hey nerd, I kissed you last night and you hated it so much you screamed at me after, thought maybe you wanted to chat about it?' And don't forget I was still too fucking proud for my own good, too."

"So I hated it, then," Izuku murmured. That didn't sound right. Bakugou shrugged.

"Dunno. You want to hear about it?"

"Y-yes," Izuku said, trying to ignore the feelings arising at the idea of Bakugou describing kissing him. Maybe he _did _deserve to have 'got a boner for explosions' carved on his headstone after this conversation fucking killed him.

"Can't say I remember it perfectly, 'cause my dumb ass thought drinking a fifth of Fireball would be a good idea."

"Kacchan, oh my god," Izuku blurted. "That would give you alcohol poisoning! You were a kid!"

He snorted. "Yeah, I spent that night throwing up. Fucking Kaminari, man. Anyway, I got it in my stupid head to kiss you. You were kind of off that night. I thought you were just being quiet, but turns out you were also trying to hide how wasted you were. Anyway, I went up and said something stupid like, um, 'I'm kissing you, nerd,' I think it was-"

Izuku snorted so loud that Bakugou jumped, then scowled at him, "Hey, I thought it was a good idea at the time."

"I'm kissing you, nerd?" Izuku repeated, starting to giggle. "Oh my god, Kacchan, what was that?"

Bakugou rubbed his face, clearly being extremely patient at great cost to his temper. Despite a newfound love of teasing Bakugou, Izuku had mercy on him. "Sorry, sorry, keep going."

"Then I fucking kissed you. For a second or two. Thought you were kissing back, actually," he mumbled. "But then you pushed me off and ran. I followed you, and you turned around and told me exactly how much you hated me, how many horrible things I did to you, explained why I didn't have the right to touch you let alone kiss you, and then told me to leave you alone and never talk to you again."

Izuku blinked at him.

"So that's what I did. Left you alone, that is. Or I fucking tried, anyway. You weren't following your own damn instructions and I didn't know how the hell to act around you."

"That um, explains a lot," Izuku said, tone wondering. "I always wondered why you started ignoring me."

Bakugou shrugged. "Now you know."

"It was still a dick move to tell me it meant nothing to you," Izuku said, hating how petulant he sounded.

"I didn't say that-"

"Last night. You did."

Bakugou stared, then groaned. "Jesus Christ Deku, I didn't mean it like that. I meant that it didn't have to mean anything to _you_. If you want your first kiss to be fucking Todoroki, then it can be. You didn't ask for me to kiss you, hell, you don't even remember it. Don't see why you have to acknowledge it even happened if you don't want to."

"I-" Izuku tried to say, but Bakugou jabbed a finger at him.

"I'm not done," he snarled. "Don't get your shitty head twisted. It meant a lot to _me_. Fucking changed my fucking life. What you said that night was the whole goddamn reason I started trying not to be a walking shitstain, got it?"

Izuku's mouth dropped open. He could feel the blood rushing to his face. It had meant something to Bakugou. He was starting to feel both strangely flattered, and also really sad. He felt an overwhelming sense of loss for something he'd never known he had.

"I just don't understand why you did it," he finally managed to say. Bakugou swallowed.

"Fine. I'll say it once, but you gotta appreciate my fucking effort," he said, a little sharply. Then he sighed, leaning back. "S'fucking embarrassing. Second year of UA, didn't know myself for shit. All I cared about was fighting and winning. Except you were there, ruining my goddamn focus. I hated you for it. Didn't know I was just a fucking horny, bisexual teenager. Took me the entire fucking year to realize what I wanted to do to you. I think I tried to be nicer at some point, but I doubt it showed. Guess I thought I'd done enough to kiss you. Like, you'd always acted like you cared about me. Always telling me I was amazing, shit like that. Thought you wouldn't mind it. Fireball took care of the rest."

"Hmmm," Izuku choked out. What he wanted to do to Izuku? Bakugou had been attracted to him? Even for just a year? At all? Ever? He hummed again, trying to pull his brain into working order.

"So yeah. Sorry I did such a shitty job of kissing you."

"Huh," Izuku coughed. It took literally all his willpower not to shout _'Then make it up to me with a proper kiss!' _Because regardless of the past, Bakugou had clearly moved on. So had he, for fuck's sake. He'd had a couple of relationships. He knew his way around love and sex and… and then there was Bakugou.

Bakugou, sitting in his kitchen, staring at him. Waiting for him to say something.

"Okay," Izuku said.

"Okay, fucking _what, _" Bakugou growled.

"I mean, it sounds okay. Kind of dramatic, but I'll take it for a first kiss." Izuku shrugged, trying to sound casual. Bakugou's mouth dropped open.

"You fucking rating my first kiss?" Oh, that's right. He'd been Bakugou's first kiss, too. That was enough to fry his entire nervous system. But _damn. _Bakugou Katsuki's first kiss. It gave him enough of a rush that he couldn't resist teasing the man.

"2/10 for execution," Izuku grinned. Bakugou's face darkened considerably. Then Izuku added, "But 9/10 for dramatic retelling seven years later! That gives us an average of 5.5/10. I'd give Shouto's a good 9.5/10, for reference."

Bakugou made some sort of choking growl, slipped off the stool, and slammed both hands on either side of Izuku. Izuku hoped he wouldn't find burn marks on his couch later. Bakugou was staring up at him, lips parted, eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to go in for the kill.

"_Fuck _Todoroki. I fucking kiss a thousand out of ten now, Deku." He sharply annunciated each syllable, eyes heated. "You'd be fucking blessed to have me kiss you," he added with a snarl. Then he whipped away, stalking towards the door.

Izuku slowly reclaimed his brain from Bakugou-induced static. "Yeah, I'd be blessed," he whispered helplessly. Bakugou looked at him, head tilted.

"What was that?" Izuku shook his head wordlessly. Apparently Bakugou had been profoundly less affected than Izuku by what had happened, because he just shrugged. "So, we good?"

"Good," Izuku repeated, still reeling. He wanted a thousand out of ten kiss. Badly. Or even just a thousand 5.5/10 kisses. Anything that involved Bakugou's mouth on his, Izuku would take, he wasn't picky. It was taking all his willpower not to demand it right now, but things were so tenuous with Bakugou that he didn't dare to risk it. After all of this, he really _couldn't _bear to lose him again. So he wouldn't. No matter how it hurt, how much he yearned for more, he wasn't going to risk what they were trying to build.

Bakugou pulled on his shoes, then looked up at Izuku. "Friends?" He asked, voice quiet. Izuku's heart lurched.

"Always, Kacchan," he said quickly, sincerely, the words slipping out before he could even think about it. Then, to his eternal shock, Bakugou blushed. Hard. Izuku was pretty sure he'd never seen him blush before, but now his entire neck and face were bright red. Bakugou flipped his hood up.

"Sentimental bullshit," he murmured, then said. "See ya 'round, nerd." The door slammed behind him.

"I'm fucked," Izuku told the door, because he was definitely fucked. He thought he'd had a crush on Bakugou before? Ha. Hilarious. That was nothing compared to now. Gods above, he wanted that man in every imaginable way. He wanted to make him blush, to make him smile, to make him moan, to make him c-

Izuku took a cold shower, then spent the night trying not to text Bakugou a thousand times, only barely succeeding.

A thousand out of ten.

What would that kiss be like? It was too easy to imagine Bakugou kissing him. He'd be rough, then achingly gentle, sharp teeth, red eyes…

Izuku had two cold showers that night.

* * *

Always? What kind of fucking reply was that?

Katsuki left Deku's apartment at a half-jog, head spinning. He desperately needed to put some distance between them. He'd literally just apologized for kissing him when they were seventeen, and he'd almost fucking kissed the idiot _again_. In the same conversation. Aggressively. And even worse, he wanted to do so much more than just kiss. All it took was seeing him again, all fucking grown up and fucking beautiful, and Katsuki wanted to destroy him. To make Deku his, once and for all, even when he had no fucking right to want that. Damn, he was so fucking possessive, and way too turned on. He slowed to a walk about three blocks from Deku's place, and slapped his own cheeks.

When was he ever going to goddamn learn? Deku was dangerous. Deku's green-ass eyes and soft lips and broad shoulders and shitty freckles were _dangerous. _Deciding to spend time around Deku was going to fucking end him. If that idiot kept pushing him, he was going to snap and actually go for it, and then he'd actually ruin everything. He'd just barely talked his way out of the misguided kiss from seven years ago, for fuck's sake!

Katsuki was trying his best, but he only had so much self-control. Good thing he always liked playing with fire, right?

Also, 5.5/10? What the fuck, Deku?


	5. Chapter 5: Boom Boom Boom Boom

It took a good four days to get a reply from Bakugou after Izuku texted him. He'd sent something extremely neutral, after spending an embarrassing amount of time writing and erasing messages.

Izuku: _Hey _

So neutral. Maybe too neutral, because Bakugou didn't reply, and Izuku refused to double text. It took four whole days for Izuku to realize that because Bakugou's phone had died, he wouldn't have Izuku's number. Again. Bakugou had been right, Izuku was fucking stupid.

Izuku: _Um, it's Deku _

The immediate response brought a wash of relief. Izuku hadn't realized how tense he'd been, constantly wondering how things were between them. Had Bakugou decided he didn't want to be friends after all? Was he upset about the conversation? Had Izuku said something that bothered him? Apparently not.

Kacchan: _Then fcking say so jfc deku ur useless _

Izuku: _I know, I know, I'm sorry! I thought you just weren't texting me back . _

Kacchan: _When have i ever not _

Izuku: _#allofUA #elementaryschool #mostofourlives _

Kacchan: …

Izuku: _Sooorryyyy Kacchan, I know I'm the worst :( _

Kacchan: _Ur shitty txting is at best a 5.5/10  
_Kacchan: _;) _

And just like that, Izuku was laughing over his phone again, like a massive dork. When had Bakugou grown a sense of humor? Maybe it had been covered up by his constant bad attitude, before. Now though, Izuku was quickly becoming addicted. Maybe he had just been too scared before to pick up on when Bakugou was actually serious.

They finally agreed to meet again, this time for coffee on a day when they each had evening shifts. Izuku picked a place he hadn't been to yet, called Pothos Place. It was perfectly set between his and Bakugou's sectors, and therefore a very fair place to meet. If it just happened to be a highly-rated date spot, Izuku wasn't at fault. Still, with a while to go before meeting Bakugou, he decided to check out the place first. A good hero is always prepared, right?

Uraraka was the friend of choice, and soon enough they were sipping mochas in Pothos Place. It was a fairly large cafe, with high, white ceilings and an open sitting area. Shelves lined the walls, dripping with vines and bushy plants. One of the walls was covered in moss, even. The iced mochas were absolutely heavenly, and Izuku was in bliss right up until they reached their table.

"I cannot believe you're bringing me here as a pre-date for Bakugou," she said, as soon as they sat down. Izuku choked on his mocha, coughing violently.

"It's not a date." He managed to make his voice sound reasonable, and not like he was a kid denying a crush.

"Mmm yes, you're right. Bakugou would totally come to a plant-covered coffee shop just to chill, for fun, with someone he's not into," Uraraka rolled her eyes. "Have you met him?"

"Yes?" Izuku said. "Maybe he likes plants now. Idk, I went to his noisy dive bar last time, so…"

"This is your second date?" Uraraka screeched. Izuku clapped his hands on her cheeks, gently.

"Not. A. Date."

"Hmph," she said. "If you say so. I don't know what his game is then, because his flirting is outrageous."

She'd finally succeeded in making Izuku blush, at least. "Kacchan isn't. He wouldn't. He's not, he doesn't, um,"

"Sweet, darling, baby Deku-cheeks," she said. "Come on! Get your head in the game! I saw you guys together, remember? He was all over you, it was ridiculous. Like, 'Oh, let me help you walk to the bathroom 'cause my sweet little nerd baby can't do it by himself?' Give me a break."

"You're making stuff up," Izuku sighed. He didn't even want it to be a date. The idea of dating Bakugou was nearly impossible to conceptualize, it was so strange. Just calling them friends was making his heart pound through his stupid ribcage. The whole situation was hurting his poor brain.

"Nah, he's been checking you out shamelessly. If Iida ever looked at me like that, I'd just strip on the spot."

"Oh please, like you'd ever make a move." Izuku graciously refrained from pointing out Iida's love-sick glances, because that would fall on deaf ears. Pot calling the kettle black, and all.

She stuck her tongue out. "You're right, you're right. But Deku, I hate to say this but… you should be careful, okay? I don't want you getting hurt."

"I won't," Izuku said, trying not to sound annoyed. "I can handle him. Besides, he said he just wants to be friends again." Yes, friends. Friends was safe. Well, relatively safe, at least. Right? Izuku sighed heavily. "It's fine. I just don't think that's what's happening. It's not like he can't get what he wants anywhere else, you know? Like, why go to all the effort of getting with, with me?"

"I'm not answering that one," Uraraka said wisely. Then she gave Izuku one of those blinding smiles that you just can't resist being cheered up by. "As long as you know I'm here for you no matter what, right?"

Life can be so strange. Somehow, Izuku was more at ease with Bakugou in some chic, heavily-planted cafe than he'd been with Uraraka, even if it was just due to her teasing. Izuku was having a latte this time, concerned about the potential for being teased about a mocha. He realized this was stupid when Bakugou ordered the most sugary, over-the-top frappuccino Izuku had ever seen.

"I need calories for tonight's shitty-ass shift," was all he said. Izuku just barely managed to refrain from teasing him, and was rewarded shortly with a happy and relaxed Bakugo, reclining in a chair by, legs stretched out gloriously. It was a sight. Sunlight dappled his face, softening his normally hard expression.

"How's your sector been?" Izuku tried making conversation. Bakugou's faint sneer told him it was a lame attempt, but he played along anyway.

"Shitty. One of our companies just started up some weapons manufacturing and goddamn, these fucking extra villains will not stop trying to break in."

"It's that bad?"

"Literally my whole shift tonight is just guarding this one building. Fucking drudge work, I tell you. I'm a goddamn security guard."

"Every time I go into work, they're on me about interns," Izuku sighed, commiserating. "I still feel like I can barely handle myself sometimes."

"You can handle yourself fine," Bakugou snorted. "You're just a fucking coward."

"Real nice," Izuku snapped, instantly irritated. Apparently Bakugou couldn't keep his nice act that long, after all. Bakugou just waved a hand, looking out the window like he couldn't possibly care.

"No, no, not like that. You're too fucking brave for your good, always have been. I mean that you're scared you'll fuck it up. Don't wanna take the risk, even though it's a sign you're a damn good hero."

_Oh_. Izuku found himself nodding, his face folding into a frown.

"You're right. I _wouldn't _be able to handle it if something happened to someone on my watch," he said, thinking of Iida and the fight against Stain. So many things could go wrong, and it was already so hard just caring for civilians. "Like I'm actually worried it would really mess me up, you know?"

He nervously watched Bakugou, hoping his admission wouldn't be torn apart. But Bakugou only sighed, letting his head lean back against the chair.

"I wish someone would trust me with an intern," he said. Izuku's jaw dropped. "I'm fucking stuck at #19 right now because everyone thinks I'm just gonna kill everything around me. As if I'd explode some idiot kid intern. They'd be safer with me than with half the fucking trash heroes in this city, anyway."

It was an interesting thought. Bakugou was historically known for charging in alone, but with an intern? Maybe it would be the chance he needed to show his caring side, which he technically did seem to have. "You'll get there," Izuku said, automatically. Bakugou raised his eyebrows.

"Ya think? I don't fucking know anymore, man. Maybe this is all I can do. Rankings are all popularity bullshit anyway. Best Jeanist had it right, except that I can't win a goddamn popularity contest."

"Well, Shouto's #9 right now, which is pretty amazing," Izuku said. "And everyone does seem weirdly fixated on him."

"Maybe I should dye half my hair," Bakugou snorted.

"Or wear a muzzle," Izuku said, without thinking. Bakugou let out a bark of a laugh.

"Didn't know you were into that kind of bullshit," he snickered.

"Just, just no," Izuku groaned. "No. Just, maybe consider not acting like literally everyone is a villain you plan on killing?"

"Maybe," Bakugou finally said, looking pensieve. "Doesn't fucking matter as long as I'm taking out trash, though, you know?"

Long after they'd left for their respective shifts, Izuku was still thinking about that conversation. It kept bothering Izuku, and it took him a while to pinpoint why. Bakugou hadn't seemed, well himself. He'd expect him to be more rabid, frothing at the mouth to hit #1. He always had been, after all. Bakugou Katsuki content at #19? Bakugou Katsuki content with being behind Deku? It felt viscerally wrong. As much pain as it had caused him back in the day, Izuku found that he missed that single-minded ambition in his friend.

So he was relieved when Bakugou agreed to come to another UA drinks night. Izuku got there before everyone else, mostly because he'd already texted Bakugou, who'd instantly replied with, _Ill come for you_. Again. If he didn't know better, Izuku would start to think the phrasing wasn't an accident.

But did he know better? The issue he was facing was strange - he knew Bakugou inside and out, but well, he actually didn't, not anymore. It would be more accurate to say that he knew _teenage _Bakugou inside and out. Adult Bakugou was a different beast entirely. Maybe he actually was a flirt? Maybe he was that way with everyone? Izuku was no stranger to tabloids, and there'd been so many photos taken of Bakugou leaving someone's building early in the morning, sunglasses on, middle finger up that the papers didn't even bother reporting on it anymore. There were Instabook accounts dedicated to following pro hero's various flings, and after seeing far too many pictures of Bakugou's walk of shames, Izuku had pointedly stopped looking. So he could admit that maybe Uraraka hadn't been entirely wrong to suspect him of being on the prowl. It just didn't feel like that, though.

And anyway, it was all speculation. Izuku had to admit that he couldn't really read Bakugou as well anymore, and it was bothering him.

Momo and Jirou slid into the booth next to him.

"Can't believe we didn't get tapped for the beach fiasco," Jirou complained, flopping on the table. "I saw you guys on the news. It looked fun. Tsu's gonna be pissed she missed it."

"Search and rescue isn't fun," Momo said, placing menus in front of them. "It's serious work."

"But it's fun when I'm so good at it," Jirou grinned, rolling sideways to stick her tongue out at the tall girl. Momo met Izuku's eyes over her back.

"I can't believe they put Kacchan against a water manipulator," Izuku found himself saying. "Was there really no one better suited?"

"No one's better than fucking Ground Zero," Jirou scoffed in a fairly passable Bakugou impression, making Izuku snort. "I missed the fight on the news, though, how'd he do? That jerk's been kicking ass up north, I hear."

"Mm, it wasn't bad. Not his flashiest," Izuku found himself saying, like he was some sort of expert. "Look, it's gotta be on YubeTou."

A very kind waitress dropped off a pitcher of beer, and Izuku typed "Ground Zero" into the search bar. Strangely enough, there wasn't a clip of the recent fight on the front page yet. He scrolled a bit until he saw something that looked like, well. An ass. A familiar ass.

Bakugou's ass in tight pants. Izuku squeaked.

"What's that?" Jirou asked, prying herself off the table. The video was titled, "BOOM." Izuku clicked it. He couldn't not.

It opened with a muted news clip overlaid with some heavy dance beat. Bakugou was in the video thumbnail behind the reporter, wearing street clothes and clearly being mobbed by paparazzi. Then the news clip cut to Bakugou's feed, just as he propped one foot on a bench, bending forwards to shout at some reporters. But he was facing away from the camera.

Then the song went, _Bring that ass back like a boom boom boom boom. _

Each _boom _zoomed in closer, ending with a close-up shot of Bakugou's very muscular, well-defined ass. Izuku screamed.

"Oh my fucking god," Jirous whispered in awe. "No way."

As the dance music continued, expertly-cut sections of various news-sourced videos of Bakugou as either himself or as Ground Zero were stitched together. Each time the song dropped, it synced with one of his massive explosions.

There was a clip of Ground Zero being debriefed, looking absolutely exhausted, his lips somehow synced perfectly with _when the pussy splash like water then it make your dick get harder . _Izuku was starting to laugh uncontrollably.

Each _Fuck it _line had actual audio from Bakugou's interviews overlaid. Well, there was no shortage of material there; the guy never stopped swearing. Izuku's eyes were tearing up with the hilarity of it.

Finally it was over, ending with one of Bakugou's biggest explosions. He'd vaporized some huge, insect colony villain by incinerating a three-mile radius out in some desert county. (The county was Morocco, it was two years ago, in April, and Izuku knew literally everything about it like he did with everything Ground Zero did.) The resulting mushroom cloud looked apocalyptic.

Izuku's phone fell to the table with a clatter. Jirou was staring at it, soul vacating her body. Izuku could relate.

"Where the fuck is my music video?" She suddenly screeched. "I'm the audio one, damn it! Why'd he get one instead of me?"

Izuku hit replay, and began dissolving in laughter. "He hasn't seen this, right? He's gonna kill someone."

"It's so good," Jirou groaned. "I wanna hire this person to do mine, but like. With a less slutty song."

Momo was the third victim to watch it, and was notably less impressed. Uraraka appeared later, Iida in tow.

"Uraraka. Look." Izuku thrust the phone in her face. On the screen, quick cuts of every inadvertent hip thrust Bakugou had ever done on screen were playing in rapid succession.

"Oh yeah!" She grinned. "I love that video." She grabbed the phone, and scrolled down to the comments. "See? I have the top comment. 1.7k likes," she snickered.

Izuku snatched the phone back. The comment, from _tastemyfistsuwu _read, "Bakugou? More like BakuHO." Izuku stared at her.

"What?" she said. "He's clearly flaunting it."

"Kill me and lay me in my grave," Izuku groaned. "This conversation isn't happening."

"Low hanging fruit, sorry!" She grinned, sliding into the booth. Iida followed, looking relatively calm.

"There's not actually anything in regulations about this," he said. "So knock yourselves out."

"I am currently knocking myself out," Jirou said, in a way that could only be described as vicious. After fiddling on her phone, she presented it to the group. Her official, verified Cheeps hero page read,

_LOL BAKUHO'S NEW MV: _ /239rty658/BOOM _Who will make me an mv? crying emoji #GroundZero #BakugouKatsuki #Dead #DatAssTho #LordExplodoMurder _

It had 250 recheeps already.

"He's going to kill you," Uraraka cackled.

"He can try," Momo said, calm in the face of what clearly was a disaster.

Izuku's phone buzzed.

Kacchan: _Omw _

Shit.

"So, what are the chances we don't bring this up when Kacchan gets here?" Izuku said, feeling the end of his life approach. He didn't know if Bakugou could actually go supernova, but had a feeling he was about to find out.

"Bring what up?" Shouto's cool voice could never be mistaken for Bakugou, but Izuku jumped nonetheless.

"Bring that ass back," Uraraka said unhelpfully, as Iida patted the seat next to them.

"Get ready for your eyes to melt out of your head," Jirou added, cheerful as all hell. She laid her phone down on the table, and they all watched the cheeps add up.

"It appears to be going viral," Momo said, looking amused. "Jirou, why?"

"This girl just wants to have fun," she laughed. Uraraka slapped the table.

"Damn straight! Okay, here's the real question. What music would our fan-made videos be set to? I call dibs on Anaconda!"

Iida spit his beer out, coughing violently. "What," he choked out. "Why-"

"Mmf, good choice," Jirou said. "Gotta own that shit! I've gotta do something by Rezz, maybe one of the newer remixes actually…" she proceeded to go off muttering something. Momo rubbed her temples.

"Ice Ice Baby mixed with This Girl is on Fire," Shouto said, with a completely straight face. The table erupted in laughter. Izuku was laughing so hard he cried. He'd almost forgotten Bakugou was coming, but come he did. Only twenty minutes late, actually, which was pretty good for a social outing as far as Bakugou was concerned. Izuku noticed him the moment he entered, and desperately tried to get everyone to shut up. At the very least, they'd managed to pause all the iterations of the BOOM video currently playing at their table.

So they were all suspiciously quiet when he showed up, the occasional snicker escaping Uraraka and Jirou. Izuku barely trusted himself to speak. With a frown, Bakugou pulled a chair over to the end of the booth. Jirou had turned away from him, looking religiously at her Cheeper feed, Momo was staring fixedly at the ceiling, and Shouto had covered his mouth with one hand. Uraraka had just face-planted on the table, arms hiding her head. Iida was trying to clean up the beer he'd sprayed.

"What's...up," Bakugou said, looking vaguely disgusted.

"Hi," Izuku squeaked.

"Ice. Ice. _Baby_," Uraraka whispered, then dissolved into laughter. Shouto's other hand went over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut to keep the laughter in. He was wheezing softly with the effort to stifle his laughs. It warmed Izuku's heart to see it; Shouto was still very reserved in groups, and it was nice to see him loosen up.

"I'd just leave, if I were you," Momo said. Bakugou's face began to shift into his trademark scowl, but she held up her hands in a gesture of peace. "For your own good."

"Let's just get it over with," Jirou said, too happy with herself. "1k recheeps now, by the way."

"Yep, you lot are freaks. I'm leaving," Bakugou stood, suddenly. "Deku, you coming?"

"Ohhhhh?" Uraraka said instantly, earning a dark glare. "But Bakugou, don't you wanna see what video got our Deku all worked up?"

"No, he doesn't," Izuku said, wishing he could disappear. "I wasn't-"

"You def screamed when you saw dat ass," Jirou added, unhelpfully. Bakugou pointedly sat back down.

"I changed my mind, Kacchan," Izuku said quickly. "Let's leave now. Or you can kill them all, I don't care." He tried to stand but was immediately pushed back into a sitting position by Bakugou's hand. Damn, he was strong.

"There's literally no way I won't regret this," he said, "But what video?"

"This is a mistake," Shouto added, apparently having calmed himself. "I don't want to pay for property damage."

"Oh fuck off," Bakugou snapped. "Can't be that bad if I'm in it."

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall," Momo sighed, and pulled Jirou's phone out. The music started up, and Izuku hid his face in his arms. He did not need this.

He could hear the music playing, and Bakugou's perfect silence was deafening. Finally, the song came to a stop. He dared to look up and saw Bakugou pull his phone out of his pocket. He seemed to be typing something, face alarmingly blank.

"Whatcha doin there?" Mina had arrived, innocent of all things BOOM-related. Bakugou looked up at her, eyes staring a thousand miles past her, like he was in his own private dimension of murder explosions.

"Oh, nothing. Just looking up how to find out where someone lives from their YubeTou account name SO I CAN GO MURDER THIS MOTHERFUCKER," he shouted. Smoke was coming from his phone.

Izuku dissolved in laughter again, and Uraraka was wiping tears while holding her sides.

"What?" Mina looked deeply confused, which was fair. She'd arrived at possibly the worst time. Bakugou offered her his chair, and slid in next to Izuku, pushing Momo and Jirou unceremoniously deeper into the booth.

"Nothing," he growled, voice deep and dark. He turned on Izuku, who shrank away, giggling helplessly. "You watched this shit?"

"Maybe," he managed to say. "One or twice."

"Think we're up to ten, now," Iida said, sounding like a martyr.

"Izuku found it," Jirou said, very helpfully.

"Woops," Izuku said, glaring at Jirou, the traitor.

"Technically I found it first, Baku_ho_," Uraraka chimed in, but Bakugou was ignoring them, leaning over Izuku.

"So you saw it and showed fucking everyone, huh?" He said, his voice shivering over Izuku's skin.

"Kind of," Izuku said, holding his sides. They were cramping with the effort not to laugh.

"I'm going to kill you for this," Bakugou snarled, holding up a smoking fist. Izuku just giggled harder, helpless against the ridiculousness of the situation. Sparks escaped from between Bakugou's fingers. His growl ghosted over Izuku's skin, and if he hadn't been laughing so hard, he'd probably be hopelessly turned on. Bakugou continued, "Gonna melt your flesh off your goddamn bones. You're gonna be in an urn by the time I'm fucking done, you shady video-sharing piece of filth, you-"

"Bakugou!" Iida exclaimed. "You can't talk to him like that!"

Izuku took the chance to bury his face in his arms again, shaking in silent, helpless laughter. He heard Shouto's cool voice cut in, waving Iida away. "Don't worry, Iida. I think this is some sort of twisted foreplay for them, actually."

"I hate you all," Izuku cried, sucking in breaths between laughs. "Seriously. Kacchan, go off. Take 'em out. I don't wanna live in this world anymore. I wanna move in with Onito because _he doesn't make fun of me, unlike you guys. _"

Instead, he felt a friendly slap across his back. "Cheer up, nerd," Bakugou was saying, looking hugely pleased with himself. "I know it's hard to resist checking out my ass."

"Not the only thing that's hard," Shouto said, levelly, pointing a finger at Izuku.

"God, Shouto, why! Why would you say that? You know what!?" Izuku proclaimed, glaring at Shouto, who just gave him a thumbs up. He turned on Bakugou, who still looked viciously smug. "Go ahead and _do _kill me. I'd rather be a pile of dust and listen to anything any of you say ever again."

"It's the best thing I've seen this year," Uraraka said, leaning across the table to interrupt. Bless her. It was near the end of the video, where each _boom _was accompanied by a different shot of Bakugou's ass. "Look at the comments! It's blowing up!"

Izuku pulled it up on his phone, ignoring how Bakugou crowded into his space to look at the screen. It wasn't as easy to ignore the muscular arm on the back of the booth behind him, but Izuku made a valiant effort.

_2.2k likes - tastemyfistsuwu: _Bakugou? More like BakuHO amirite?  
_1.9k likes - johnnymiko69: _Ground Zero can Pound Zero me any day jfc  
_1.8k likes - [deleted_account]: _guys dont comment on this, ground zero's gonna find us and kill us lmfao (seriously though I'm deleting after this)  
_1.2k likes - letsgoh444rd: _this shit actually slaps tho, gz actually looks cool af  
_1.1k likes - Corinthians420: _Wow, are there no standards for pro heros anymore? What happened to respectable heroes like All Might and Endeavor? They'd be so disappointed in all of you. GZ, please at least try to be a worthwhile hero #bakuNO  
_1.1k likes - bestpurpleboi: bakugET OUT OF HERE. i swear if I have to see this guys ass ONE more time im gonna explode myself and save him the trouble _

There were several thousands of comments, most of them either horrifyingly thirsty or laughing about Bakugou's inevitable retribution. Izuku could practically feel the explosion building next to him.

"You're right, Deku," Bakugou said, looking up. "I'm going to explode you, this bar, the rest of the city, and then myself. In that order."

"Aw, I get to be first," Izuku snickered, chronically unable to take this seriously.

"Look, just a suggestion, but could we not talk about Bakugou's ass for at least some part of tonight?" Iida asked, in a hilariously polite voice.

"Finally a good fucking idea!" Bakugou shouted. "Come on losers, what do you normally get up to these days?"

"Kaminari says we should go to this club he's at," Mina said, holding up a text message with way too many emojis in it. "We haven't been out in ages guys, we should go!"

"Fuck no," Bakugou said, just as Izuku pounced on the idea. He'd have jumped on anything to get them out of this hell situation.

"I want to go dancing!" He said, excited despite himself.

"Fuck yes," Bakugou said, in exactly the same tone of voice he'd used to shoot the idea down, and that was that. Izuku couldn't deny the bubble of happiness warming in his chest, though, because there was no denying that Bakugou was going somewhere just because he wanted to.

Kaminari's club was ten blocks away, but the night wasn't cold yet and a nice walk never hurt anybody. Having Bakugou back in the group was strange. He fit in seamlessly, in a way he never had in high school. Izuku couldn't tell if it was just that he'd mellowed out, or the rest of them had learned his sense of humor. Or maybe he just hadn't had a sense of humor before? He felt that strange sense of disconnect from Bakugou again. Would he ever know him as well as he used to?

Then from up ahead, Iida stopped. "Have you guys been checking the rankings? I just got pinged by my agency. I'm up five spots away from Top 30 Rankings!"

Izuku pulled out his phone, hitting the browser. He had the page bookmarked. He was at #15, which was honestly very impressive given his age. It was also very, very far from #1. He couldn't help the disappointment that came from seeing the score, though. To his right, Bakugou was also checking, sharp face lit by his phone screen.

Then he saw Bakugou tense, his shoulders pulling in and steps faltering. Izuku checked for Bakugou's name. #30. Izuku was shocked. Ground Zero had been floating around #17 for a while, rising and dipping with his various victories and outbursts respectively, but he hadn't dropped under #20 for years. Izuku's throat felt tight. What had happened? If anything, Bakugou should be up after the beach thing, since he'd resolved the situation and only flipped off the cameras once.

"Kacchan," he said softly.

"I'm almost off the fucking top thirty," the man muttered, slowing to a stop.

Maybe Izuku could still read him, because he could feel the heartbreak from here. Their friends continued on, but Izuku couldn't leave Bakugou. "What, what happened?" he asked, hating how hesitant he sounded.

"Fucking video," Bakugou ground out, hanging his phone to Izuku. There was an email from his PR agency, which Izuku quickly skimmed. Essentially, they were notifying Bakugou of the video, explaining that the scandalous nature of some shots and reminders of his potty mouth (yes, they used that phrase) had trashed his rankings. He'd dropped eleven whole spots. Then came the inane suggestions to improve his ratings. Izuku didn't even realize his hand was covering his mouth.

It was horrible. Bakugou had clawed his way out of the top hundred by sheer force of will, leaving behind a myriad of insulted civilians, reporters, and officials. Hitting top thirty had been a big deal, and Timesweek had even run an article on whether he deserved it or not.

To be back at #30? He looked up at Bakugou, who looked like he was either about to fall to pieces or spontaneously combust.

"Kacchan, I-"

"It's nothing," he growled. "Look, you go dancing. I'm going to go drink 'til I black out. See ya later, Deks." He turned, and began slouching away. Izuku's heart hurt for him.

Before he knew it, he'd caught up with Bakugou, grabbing his arm. "Kacchan, wait. I'll come with you."

"For what," Bakugou sighed, jerking his head away from him.

"Company," Izuku said, a little forcefully. He knew he was taking a big risk. Bakugou historically never accepted comfort of any kind, and hadn't confided in anyone except maybe Kirishima, and then only on a good day. Or except for Izuku, when they were four and told each other everything.

Bakugou finally slowed, turning to look at Izuku, his expression heavy and resigned. "Fucking hell, Deku. Can't believe this shit, you know? I didn't even do it this time, and the fuckers docked me eleven spots. I'm pissed as all hell, and I don't want to take it out on anyone. On you."

It was hard to hear. Bakugou Katsuki never accepted defeat, never backed down, fired on all cylinders all the time. And as Ground Zero, even more so. Everyone knew that if it was an impossible fight, too dangerous to risk, you sent in Ground Zero. Yet here he was, looking exhausted. Drained. Like finally, somehow, this was what had turned it all into too much to bear.

"I'm not #15 for nothing," Izuku said, with a little bite to his words. Bakugou's eyes snapped to his, but he rushed on, "So I can handle a pissed off Ground Zero, okay? You don't have to be alone. I'm here. I don't want to go dancing when my friend is, is… when my friend is having a rough time," he finished lamely.

Bakugou swallowed, clearly trying to decide whether or not to let him in. Izuku had said his piece though, and the ball was in Bakugou's court.

"I'm going to chug booze till my liver fails," Bakugou finally said, voice rough. "So it can be at the shittiest bar in the city, at my place, or at yours. You pick."

Izuku's mouth dropped open. He was in. Holy shit. Then came the crushing realization that while Bakugou might have let him in, even a little, and now he couldn't mess it up. If he ruined things tonight, who knew if Bakugou would ever speak to him again? He knew instinctively that Bakugou's aggressive personality hid someone that really, truly cared about what he did. Who cared about everything, exhaustively. It was actually something they had in common.

"My place," Izuku said, trying to sound decisive. "People keep gifting me alcohol but I never drink it, so…"

"Fucking using me to get rid of your booze?" Bakugou scoffed.

"Yep," Izuku said, risking a small smile.

"Smart move," Bakugou hissed. "I'm gonna get trashed. Hope you're ready to take care of a useless sack of fucking garbage."


	6. Chapter 6: Incandescent

Before he knew it, Izuku found himself standing in his kitchen, with an enormously sulky Bakugou laying on his couch. He was looking for something for the other man to drink. Some sort of beer, or liquor, but he'd forgotten that he was exclusively gifted with fruity wines for some reason. How had he ended up in this situation? Just a few months ago, everything was normal in his life. He'd been doing perfectly fine hero work, spending time with his friends, learning to cook buns and cupcakes and nonsense. But of course, everything Bakugou touches explodes, and his life had apparently been infected by the chaos. He heard a groan coming from the couch, and he eyed the culprit warily.

"Kacchan?" He called hesitantly.

"Where's the fucking booze, nerd? Your resident piece of garbage wants to get wasted."

"I just have um, Riesling, champagne, and like ten bottles of rosé." Izuku knew what was coming long before Bakugou said anything.

Bakugou's head rose from behind the back of the couch like a corpse from the grave. "You seriously brought me here to drink that crap? Is this some fucking revenge plot for the past, Deku? 'Cause count yourself avenged. This is cruel."

"I wasn't thinking," Izuku mumbled, feeling kind of bad. "Everyone just gives me sweet things for some reason, but we can go somewhere else!"

"Fuck no," Bakugou said, oozing over the back of the couch so his arms dangled down. "You're stuck with me now, so hit me with your least-sweet shit."

Izuku brought him a glass of Riesling, setting it on the coffee table nervously.

"I cannot fucking believe I'm trying to drink myself blind with a wine glass of Riesling in some fucking nerd's apartment," Bakugou sighed. "Just when I thought I couldn't get any more pathetic."

"You're not pathetic," Izuku said, automatically. Bakugou heroically downed the entire glass in one gulp. Izuku poured him another, which was summarily rejected when Bakugou grabbed the whole bottle. Izuku sipped on the abandoned glass, trying not to fixate on how Bakugou's throat moved as he chugged the wine.

"Gonna have a hell of a hangover," Bakugou muttered.

"Isn't this self-destructive?" Izuku was concerned, but also unsure how much he could push.

"I've destroyed everything else, so I may as well add my goddamn self to the list." Bakugou held up a hand, watching small explosions dance across it. He seemed pensive and moody, which was a departure from any other mood Izuku had seen on the man. It unsettled him.

"Wouldn't have pegged you to be so dramatic," Izuku said, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. Anything to stop Bakugou from looking so down.

Bakugou practically melted across the couch, turning so he was nearly on top of Izuku. Izuku shrank down, looking up at the other man. One of Bakugou's hands had landed next to his hip, and the other precariously held the bottle, propped against the back of the couch. He was half-caging Izuku in, and the proximity was frying his brain. His heart pounded, as he took in the muscles bunching in Bakugou's shoulders, his burning expression, his slightly parted lips. God damn.

"Wouldn't mind being pegged by you," Bakugou drawled, and Izuku actually choked, fire shooting through his limbs. This was bad. He did _not _need that image in his head right now.

"Y-you can't say that," Izuku said, holding onto his glass for dear life.

"No, no," Bakugou admonished him, taking another drink from the bottle. "I'll say what I fucking want, nerd. I'm being self-destructive, remember?" It was unfair, really. Izuku had planned on being there for Bakugou emotionally, and had zero idea what to do when Bakugou acting like this. It was pushing the limits of Izuku's self-control, and he was seconds away from either bolting from the room or kissing Bakugou himself.

He snatched the bottle from Bakugou and downed the rest, ignoring how Bakugou's gaze fixated on his mouth as he drank. His head was buzzing. Distantly, he knew this was a perfect storm for something they'd inevitably regret. He'd meant to be there for Bakugou, not bang him. Could he not do both, though? No. No! Izuku would be a good friend. He wouldn't take advantage of the other man while he was down.

But it was hard to care about that when Bakugou was staring straight through his soul. It was impossible to deny his attraction any longer. Despite his nerves, despite how badly he wanted to be a good friend, Izuku couldn't resist reaching out. His trembling hand gently touched Bakugou's cheek. Izuku nearly expected them to both explode on the spot, but Bakugou just leaned into the touch, eyes half-closed.

"Deku," he said, voice low and rough. He moved even closer, one large hand bracing on Izuku's thigh. The touch burned, and Izuku longed to leave it there, to see where else Bakugou would go. But he wasn't here to mess around, after all.

"It's not going to work," Izuku said, voice catching. He scuttled backward, climbing awkwardly over the arm of the couch. Bakugou followed, ending up draped across the couch, looking sinfully good. Izuku swallowed. "You're not destroying this. I brought you here to keep you company, not to let you try and ruin everything around you. You can't do anything that will ruin this."

"You're so fucking good to me, Deku," Bakugou purred. Izuku backed up against the wall. Bekugou didn't follow, but his red, dangerous stare pinned Izuku in place. "Just how are you planning to keep me company, then?"

"Carefully, and from a safe distance," Izuku squeaked.

"Smartass."

"You're drunk," Izuku countered. Bakugou climbed up to perch on the arm of the couch, tilting his head at Izuku. His loose tank top had dropped to the right, one sleeve dropping over a well-defined shoulder. Izuku stared at it, feeling like he was living in some strange, parallel universe. This couldn't be real, right? Horribly attractive men didn't hit on him in his apartment. He was boring, he was straightlaced. Yet, there was Bakugou, sitting on his couch, looking like a mountain cat considering its prey.

"Not nearly drunk enough to excuse my behavior," he finally said. "Got some more shitty Riesling? I'm planning to do some things I'll definitely need excuses for."

"You would be easier to deal with if you just passed out," Izuku mumbled, making Bakugou snort with laughter.

"Yes, the #30 hero, knocked out by Riesling and passed out on someone else's couch. Fucking glorious. Would you like that? Is that what you want from me?"

"Kacchan, don't," Izuku pled.

"Don't what?" Bakugou snapped, vaulting over the couch easily. The wall was nice and solid behind Izuku's back, and he refused to back away further. It felt like in those nature documentaries, where they say not to turn your back on a predator. Bakugou was on the prowl, and Izuku had to stand his ground. He swallowed.

"Don't talk about yourself like that!" It came out a little forceful, and a sneer lifted Bakugou's lip. "You're not pathetic. You're amazing, and one of the strongest people in this whole country, and, and, and a good person. It's stupid that the rankings don't reflect that."

Bakugou was getting closer, socked feet silent as he moved across the floor. "Fuck, Deku, don't stop."

"W-what? Stop what?" Izuku stuttered. He had to look away from the intensity of Bakugou's gaze. Bakugou's forearms landed heavily on the wall, framing Izuku's head. His heart nearly lept out of his damn chest. Bakugou leaned in, eyes narrowed.

"You know I like praise," he whispered, voice grating. Izuku's body reacted subconsciously, head tilting up, hands pressing against Bakugou's chest. The man was so warm, so strong. Izuku was short of breath, overwhelmed by the moment. But still, he had to be strong. It was hard though, with his head swimming and how goddamn irresistible Bakugou was. He cursed how much of a lightweight he was.

"Kacchan," he breathed.

"Tell me what you want from me," Bakugou ordered, voice harsh. "You want to keep me company? Fine. Tell me what you want to do. I'll fucking do anything."

The words broke something in Izuku, crushing his self-restraint. Fine. If Bakugou wanted this, then who was Izuku to stop him? He'd only been dreaming about it for most of his life. He reached up, fingers winding through the blonde hair at the nape of Bakugou's head. He pulled him down for a kiss, ready to face whatever consequences came of it.

Instead of warm lips, a hand slapped across his mouth. Izuku squeaked in protest, then realized Bakugou looked pissed.

"_Fuck_, no," he growled, lips next to Izuku's ear. "Can't fool me. I'm not fucking kissing you drunk again, lil' Deku."

"B-but," Izuku protested, his words muffled. Relenting for a moment, Bakugou's hand slipped from his mouth, gripping his chin instead. Nearly wordless with desire, Izuku managed to say, "But I wanted you to-"

"Shh," Bakugou hissed, dropping his head lower, mouth ghosting against the skin beneath his ear. "I've got other fucking things to do than kiss you."

Izuku made some sort of strangled noise, trying to look at his expression, but Bakugou's grip on his jaw tightened, forcing his chin up. Then Izuku felt him kiss the side of his neck. Then bite. His knees nearly gave out, and he was suddenly grateful Bakugou was helping support his weight. His hand threaded through Bakugou's hair, his last three brain cells marveling at how soft it was.

"Izuku," Bakugou whispered, pulling back. Izuku grabbed a handful of his hair, and pushed his face back into his neck. The man growled, and obediently went back to biting the sensitive skin, making his leisurely way down Izuku's neck. Izuku stared at the ceiling, lost in pleasure. Bakugou Katsuki was kissing him, even if it was just his neck. It was heaven on earth, and he never wanted it to stop.

Bakugou's hand finally dropped his from chin, moving to his sides, thoroughly feeling him up. "So fucking nice," Bakugou whispered, nipping at the skin beneath Izuku's jaw. He tried not to writhe with pleasure. "How you doing, lil' Deku? Having a good fucking time? Enjoying my _company? _"

Izuku whimpered, trying to find words. Bakugou pulled back, concern briefly flashing across his face. Never mind that he'd managed to push Izuku's shirt all the way up his chest, and at some point had unbuttoned his pants. He was an absolute menace. A menace who was starting to look worried.

"Deku?" Bakugou asked. Right. Izuku should say something. Anything.

"Don't stop," Izuku snapped, annoyed by the pause. Bakugou's eyes flew open. Izuku didn't care. He'd been dreaming of this for so damn long, and feeling Bakugou want him, Bakugou's hands on him… he wouldn't let anything stop this. He didn't care about the emotional fallout after, he didn't care about how his friends would judge him, he didn't care about looking desperately horny in front of Bakugou. He had what he wanted now, and he was going to take it.

"Deku," Bakugou rumbled, sounding approving. "You-"

Izuku grabbed the back of his neck, and pushed him back down to his neck. "Get back to work," he ordered. He was shaking, he realized. He was too turned on, too much adrenaline.

"Fucking Deku," Bakugou snarled, and with a thud, dropped to his knees. His hands slip up Izuku's sides as he licked a stripe down Izuku's abs. Shameless.

Looking down and seeing Bakugou's blond head between his legs was mind-blowing. It was all too easy to imagine Bakugou blowing him, and just the thought alone made his legs tremble. Bakugou's hands gripped his hips, steadying him. He rested his chin on the zipper of his pants, looking up. He was smiling, the smug bastard. Completely shameless. Izuku wanted to fuck that insufferable, cocky mouth.

"Tell me," Bakugou said, looking like he expected a medal. One hand crept between Izuku's legs, brushing over him. Just the light touch made Izuku shake. Fuck. He fisted his hands, trying to pull himself together. It was no use, as Bakugou purred, "Tell me what you want."

"Blow me," he choked out, cheeks burning with shame.

[explicit content redacted LOL. You can read it on AO3]

"Hey, lil' Deku. How you doing?" He stood, looking down at Izuku. Izuku felt horribly vulnerable, pants around his ankles, shaking in the aftershock of what they'd done.

"I'm good," he managed to say, bravely. Was he though? Izuku honestly didn't know.

"Thought I was better than just fucking good," Bakugou snorted. Izuku opened his mouth to say that no, Bakugou was the best, better than everyone, better than his wildest dreams, but before he could the other man continued, "But I'll take it. Nothing wrong with room for improvement."

"Hmm," Izuku said, voice a little too high. Was this real? He was still struggling to wrap his head around what happened. Bakugou stepped away, stretching enormously.

"I feel fucking great," he said, rolling his shoulders. The sight was magnificent, and Izuku marveled at his own ability to be so damn thirsty. He'd literally just been blown within an inch of his life, and he wanted nothing more than to eat Bakugou alive. The man in question yawned, jaw cracking. "Nothing like some action to clear your head."

So that's what he was. Some _action _to push Bakugou's shitty thoughts out of his shitty head. Uraraka had been right to warn him. Izuku pulled his pants up, hands shaking. Bakugou turned, nearly tripping over his own feet. He glared at Izuku. "Nerd. I can hear your shitty thoughts from here. Whatcha thinking?"

"Nothing," Izuku sniffed, unhelpfully. "I'm going to clean up."

"Can I come?"

"No," Izuku said, a little too harshly, and Bakugou looked put out. Great, now he was the jerk. "Sorry," he said. "I'm just um, a little overwhelmed." And heartbroken, and used, and...

"Come here," Bakugou said. Izuku looked at him blankly. Bakugou sighed as if Izuku was stupid. "Where's your bed? We're going to fucking cuddle until you quit looking like I kicked your puppy."

"Why," Izuku muttered, leading the way to his bedroom regardless. Bakugou followed after him, large and shuffling. He sat on the edge of his bed nervously, but Bakugou bonelessly laid down, tugging Izuku onto his broad chest. "Why," he whispered again.

"Cause that shit was intense, idiot. It can be overwhelming for anyone." Bakugou pulled him tighter, pushing his face into the crook of his neck. Izuku hesitantly hugged him back. "There you go," Bakugou said quietly. "You know I'm gonna take care of you, right?"

"Mmm," Izuku said helplessly, burying his face in Bakugou's neck. He smelled faintly of sweat, Riesling, and smoke. What Bakugo was saying was too close to what he'd always wanted to hear. He was going to cry. He wanted Bakugou so damn badly, wanted him to be someone he could count on, someone he could say was _his _… God damn, he'd really done it now.

Bakugou gently stroked his back, apparently blissed out and completely immune to Izuku's silent meltdown. His regular breathing was strangely comforting, and eventually, despite the storm of thoughts in his head, Izuku drifted off to sleep.

Izuku woke up, feeling warm, safe, and boneless. It took him a couple of minutes to remember the night before, and he sat bolt upright. Then winced. Damn, he was hungover. He wondered if Bakugou was too. Bakugou. Bakugou who wasn't in his bed anymore.

Much faster than was reasonable, Izuku was out of bed and searching his apartment. It quickly became obvious that he was alone. Trying to not feel crushed, he looked around and saw a note on his table. It said,

_Deku- _

_Saw the fucking press outside and left before they swarmed the place. Had a great time last night. Hoping you don't have any regrets, I definitely don't. This doesn't have to change anything, k? I'm going home, just gonna work out and hide from the entire fucking internet. See you soon? Text me when you're up. Breakfast's in the fridge. You need to buy real groceries btw _

_-K _

Izuku stared, trying to wrestle his feelings. Bakugou had had a great time last night? Blowing him. Fuck. He braced himself on the table, trying to get a grip. But then, he said that it didn't have to change anything? What would it change to? Did Bakugou want nothing to change?

Quickly realizing he was going to hopelessly overthink things, Izuku padded to the fridge to find out what breakfast was. Fried rice with peppers, and Bakugou had drawn a goddamn happy face on it with hot sauce. Izuku stood in the cool fridge air, blushing like an idiot.

Yep, he was a goner. Totally gone for Bakugou. He could only hope that his heart wouldn't end up in pieces, but at this point, he couldn't even bring himself to care.

Then came the next realization. If he wanted a relationship with Bakugou, how the hell did he go about it? Just ask him out? Get him to go on a date? Hadn't they done things out of order? Weren't kisses and dates supposed to come before late-night sloppy blow jobs?

Fuck. Bakugou on his knees, mouth open. Izuku realized he was still standing before the open fridge, and grabbed the fried rice, and slammed the door shut. The smiley face looked at him mockingly, as if it knew how much of a pervert he was. And the fried rice was delicious of course.

One cold shower later, Izuku decided it was a great time to do some stress baking. Oh, and he had to text Bakugou.

Izuku: _Morning. What do you spice your curry with? _

Kacchan: _Curry powder with chilies etc. Y? _

Izuku: _:) _

Kacchan: _Dont cook fcking shitty curry w/o me _

Izuku didn't deign to reply. Besides, he wasn't cooking curry, per se. Just curry buns, and then he was bringing them to Bakugou because he was such a good friend. Yep. A friend.

Bakugou had been right about the press. They were literally camped out in front of his building, but thankfully with his hood on, no one recognized him as he scooted past.

By the afternoon, he was done baking. The buns smelled amazing, and Izuku only tried two of them. To quality test. They were way too spicy for Izuku, which meant they should work for Bakugou.

Bakugou obligingly texted him his address, warning him that he was working out and would take a second to get to the door. Izuku was reminded of all the times he'd gone over to Bakugou's house as a kid. He'd been terrified by all the yelling at first, until he realized there was no ill-will behind it. Maybe that was why he'd never been as affected by Bakugou's loud nature. No, it was never the shouting or cursing that had bothered him. It had been Bakugou's complete denial of their friendship, the intentionally cruel words, the way he'd pushed him away.

Damn, Izuku was making himself nervous. Still, he made it to Bakugou's place without incident. He lived deeper downtown than Izuku, just outside of his sector, in a modern-looking apartment complex. Nervous, he hit the code Bakugou had texted him. Sure enough, he was buzzed in. An elevator took him to the seventh floor, and somehow Izuku ended up in front of Bakugou's door. He took a deep breath and rang the bell. No answer.

Izuku: _I'm here? _

Another couple of seconds, then he heard feet pounding on the ground. Bakugou opened the door suddenly. Izuku froze at the sight of him. He _had _been working out. He was breathing hard, skin glistening with sweat. He wore a sweat-drenched, relatively transparent white tank top and low riding sweatpants, and looked illegally good.

"Brought you something," Izuku mumbled. Bakugou blinked at him.

"Fuck, Deku, come on in." He stepped aside, giving Izuku a view of his place. It was a fairly typical apartment, and was surprisingly tidy with black countertops and framed artwork. Once again, Izuku was faced with just how much his friend had changed over the years.

"You were right about the press," Izuku said, a little self-consciously, setting the basket on the table. He could feel Bakugou staring at his back. "They were all over the place when I left."

He finally turned, only to find Bakugou right in front of him. He jerked his chin up, refusing to be intimidated. Bakugou had the strangest expression on his face, like he was trying to hold back a laugh. He'd somehow expected Bakugou to be angrier, or sulkier, or even hornier after how he was acting the night before.

"Is everything okay?" He ventured.

"Did they," Bakugou said, wheezing slightly, "Did the press recognize you?"

"No?"

Bakugou broke down in laughter. "That's good, because holy shit, Deku. Did you look in the mirror today?"

Izuku hadn't, actually. He'd studiously avoided it, because he couldn't face himself yet. "Um…"

Bakugou stepped in, reaching out. Izuku stood stock still. He wasn't drunk, now. Was Bakugou finally going to kiss him? Instead, he merely took ahold of Izuku's chin, gently lifting it. His eyes were dropped to Izuku's mouth, one thumb drifting over his bottom lip. Izuku was boneless in his grip. Damn, Bakugou affected him way too much. It was embarrassing. Then Bakugou took out his phone.

"Can I take a picture?"

"Sure, I guess? Why?" Izuku's eyes were wide. He had no idea what was going on, but he wasn't about to stop it, not if it meant Bakugou touching him. Bakugou lined up the shot, hand still lifting his jaw.

"Fuck, that's hot," he muttered, then turned the screen towards Izuku. Izuku saw a picture of himself. At first, all he could notice was how Bakugou's hand looked on him, and how pathetically turned on Izuku looked. Then he saw his neck. It was absolutely covered in hickeys, on both sides, from his collar bones to his ears. Oh no. Oh god, no. Izuku flushed from his neck to his forehead.

"Oh my god," he groaned. "Kacchan, why? Why would you do this to meee?"

Bakugou was back to snickering again. "Fucking couldn't help it," he laughed. "Oh, Deku, it's so bad. Jesus Christ. I'd say sorry, but I'm fucking not."

Izuku shoved him away, then covered his face. "How can I go to work like this," he whined.

"Oh relax, nerd," Bakugou said, stifling laughter. "I've got a great concealer for this. You can borrow it for as long as you need. Let me go shower and I'll grab it for you."

Izuku glared at him, both touched and very annoyed. "It had better work, or it's your ass on the line."

"Keep dreaming about my ass, nerd," Bakugou said, padding off to the bathroom. "Make yourself at home!"

While Bakugou showed, Izuku checked himself out in his camera's selfie mode. He managed to count eleven individual hickeys. God, it was like he was a teenager. Except he'd never even gotten hickeys as a teenager, because apparently teen Izuku was more damn professional than adult Izuku. He groaned. What was he getting into? He didn't need to ask how Bakugou had concealer for this on hand, either. It was all too easy to imagine everyone in the goddamn city thirsting after that neck.

His phone buzzed.

Ochako 3: _Hey, saw you and BK left early last night. Everything good? _

Bless her for checking in. Was everything good? Izuku had no idea, but he was buzzing with energy.

Izuku: _Kacchan just wanted to get away for a bit, so I went with. Everything's fine :) _

Ochako 3: _Was it about the rankings? I saw when I was looking at Iidas, I bet he was pretty pissed _

Izuku: _It was pretty rough I think :/ _

Ochako 3: _Yeah but Deku, have you checked today. It went VIRAL. Like, hard core. Jirou had to turn off notifications on Cheeper _

Izuku opened the internet, and was immediately assaulted by the BOOM video. It was about 4:00 PM, and since the night before the video had hit… 100 million views? Izuku's jaw dropped. Holy shit. His stomach dropped. Bakugou was finally seeming happier, but if this had knocked him entirely the off of the top thirty…

Throat dry, Izuku checked the rankings. He scrolled down quickly, and saw Bakugou's name wasn't at #30. He felt cold, angry. How dare they. How dare they throw out all of his hard work over something so stupid? Angrily, he scrolled back up, resenting all the heros who hadn't had their ambition ruined by some stupid video. Then he saw Bakugou's name. #16, right behind Izuku.

What? He paged back to the news, spotting a headline saying, _Ground Zero's Popularity Explodes After Viral Video Makes Angry Hero Approachable _

Damn. It was good news, technically, though he couldn't predict how Bakugou would feel about his popularity being defined by a video, even if it was positive.

Bakugou finally came back, dressed in a simple green t-shirt and sweats. Still looking ridiculously good. Izuku glared at him. How dare he.

"Here, I'll put it on for you," Bakugou said without preface, whipping a tube out of his pocket. Izuku sat perfectly still as Bakugou carefully dabbed the cool concealer on his neck with a small sponge. It was strangely intimate. Izuku just wished Bakugou would kiss him, or something, but the other man remained focused on his task, the tip of his tongue poking out in concentration.

Cute.

"There," he said, finally. "You'd never know I practically ate you alive last night." The last bit was accompanied by a sharp grin. All of Izuku's thoughts about hero rankings went straight out the window. Bakugou seemed completely unaffected. "You know, I love a good mark, but I'm not usually that fucking bad."

"Mmm," Izuku mumbled.

"Hey," Bakugou said, leaning in. "We all good? I'm worried I came on too fucking strong and you're freaking out, or something."

"When am I not freaking out?" Izuku sighed. "No, it's fine. I was actually worried I took advantage of you, cause you were all drunk and sad and…"

Bakugou looked at him appraisingly. "You're fucking sweet, Deku, but you didn't take advantage of me. You think I can get that drunk off half a bottle of shitty wine, huh?"

"Guess not," Izuku mumbled. Bakugou stretched again, groaning. The sound went straight to Izuku's libido. "Look, about the rankings," Izuku began.

Bakugou waved him off. "Don't worry about it, nerd. I was pissed last night, but it's fucking fine. I climbed up before and I'll damn well do it again." Izuku's mouth dropped open. That was the Bakugou he knew, and it was really, really attractive.

Bakugou cracked his knuckles, expression thunderous. "You were right, before. I can't expect to be #1 if I just fuck around doing my own shitty thing. People want a fucking nice Ground Zero? I'll mind my fucking- I'll mind my goddamn," he sighed. "I'll mind my blessed manners. And maybe then they'll see that I can be at the top."

Izuku's heart twisted. Somehow, this wasn't at all how he wanted things to go. He cleared his throat. "I just, um, well I checked the rankings today?"

Bakugou's expression went thunderous. "What the fuck am I know? Negative six hundred?"

"Sixteen," Izuku said, swallowing. Bakugou cocked his head.

"Sixty?"

"Sixteen," Izuku repeated, then added, "Just one spot behind me."

"I'd love to be in a spot behind you," Bakugou said automatically, but clearly didn't have his heart in the innuendo. He looked lost in thought. "Fucking why am I #16?"

"I haven't looked at all the news, but I guess people liked you in the video," Izuku said, blushing for some reason. Maybe because _he _liked Bakugou in the video. The truth was he liked that Bakugou had a horrible personality, he liked how much he swore, that he took absolutely no bullshit from anyone, ever. He never wanted to see that change.

"No way," Bakugou said, expression shifting from wondering to angry and back again.

"Look, Kacchan, about what I said earlier…"

"Hmm?" Bakugou had already wandered away, poking at the basket. "What's this? You bring me some food?"

"You made breakfast," Izuku said, momentarily side tracked. "They're curry buns," Izuku said. Bakugou's stare switched to him.

"You're the perfect fucking man," he said, then vigorously dug into the basket, making Izuku blush again. So much blushing couldn't be good for his circulation, or something. Bakugou found a bun and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, sighing in pleasure.

"Wait, Kacchan, I was trying to say something," Izuku protested.

"Best head of your life or what?" Bakugou said, voice muffled around the bun. Izuku glared.

"Shut up. I'm being serious." Bakugou waved a hand, inviting him to go on, but stuffing yet another bun in his stupid, handsome face. Izuku took a deep breath. "Kacchan, what I said earlier, about you being nice and stuff?"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you," he mumbled around his food. "Gonna be a nice lil' hero."

"_No_," Izuku said, trembling slightly. He was getting louder, but he couldn't stop. "You shouldn't. You are who you are, Kacchan. I _like _who you are, okay? And why the hell can't you get to #1 while being a complete asshole? Aren't you strong enough? Can't you show this stupid country that no matter what, no one can compare to you?"

He finished his rant, hands clenched. Bakugou was staring at him, eyes wide. He looked absolutely floored. A piece of bun fell out of his mouth. After a pause, he swallowed hurriedly.

"Fucking hell, Izuku," he said. Izuku shivered at the sound of his name. Bakugou slid around the counter, and pulled Izuku into a tight hug. He yelped in surprise, but let it happen. "Fucking hell, Izuku," Bakugou repeated, softer. He pulled back, taking Izuku's face in his hands. "That's what you really think?"

"Yes," Izuku whispered emphatically, meeting his eyes. "Show everyone they can't stop you. Take this whole goddamn city."

"Fine then," Bakugou said, his grin gaining a dangerous edge. "I'll fucking wipe the floor with these losers."

Izuku was grinning up at him, happy to see his friend back to normal. If normal was the right word - Bakugou looked incandescent, motivated. Beautiful. He half-turned away, as if lost in thought, but Izuku was high on success and adrenaline and his impulsiveness would not be stopped.

"And if you don't kiss me right now, I'm going to kick your ass all the way to the USA," he said, lifting his chin. Bakugou's head whipped around, eyes narrowed.

"Deku," he snarled, one hand snaking out and grabbing the back of his neck. In an instant, Bakugou had pulled him flush with his body. The other man leaned own, his hand cradling Izuku's cheek. Izuku met his eyes in wonderment. "So damn pretty," Bakugou whispered, then leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, an achingly sweet brush of the lips. Trembling, Izuku lifted his chin, leaning into it. And then Bakugou was kissing him hard, fingers catching in his hair, pushing him back, back, until his back thumped against the wall. Bakugou's hands dropped down, grabbing his ass and then hoisted him up effortlessly. Izuku obligingly wrapped his legs around Bakugou, leaning down to kiss him. Bakugou was merciless, head tilted up, kissing, biting. Izuku was utterly lost in the moment. He never wanted to be anywhere else, just here, kissing Bakugou, forever.

Eventually they stopped, breathing hard. Izuku was lost in the sight of Bakugou glaring up at him.

The moment lasted right up until Bakugou said, "Rate me, bitch."

Izuku blinked at him, mind barely working. Then it sunk in, and Izuku dissolved in laughter. Maybe it was because he was releasing the pent up tension, the worry, the desire, but Izuku leaned back against the wall and howled in laughter. Growling, Bakugou gently lowered him to the floor. Izuku steadied himself with a hand on Bakugou's chest, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Oh my god, Kacchan, you're so-"

"I'm so what? Give me a fucking number, nerd. If it's less than 10/10 I'm going to fucking murder you."

Izuku dissolved into giggles again. "Okay, okay, fine. You get a million, alright? A million out of ten. Now leave me alone before I die of laughter."

"Damn straight I do," Bakugou huffed, backing up.

Izuku was still giggling helplessly, but he was so damn happy. Bakugou had _kissed _him, and he might actually have a chance. He might actually have a chance to get what he always had wanted. He looked at Bakugou, who'd wandered inevitably back to the curry buns. Yep, he was done. He'd found the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and all he had to do was win him over.


	7. Chapter 7

Hello! Because of 's guidelines, I can't post the rest of the (very explicit) fic here. If you'd like to read it, please check it out on AO3!

Fireball

Sincerely,

useless_donut


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